


Far Longer

by JuliaBC



Series: Far Longer Universe [1]
Category: Zorro (TV 1957)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Intrigue, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 51,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5691712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaBC/pseuds/JuliaBC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was meant to bridge off of my Sweet Face novelization but then events clashed with the Next Day part I added to it, so this was separate also. I hope you find this to be a good representation of Magdalena, and keep in mind that this is a Magdalena story and won't have as much Diego/Zorro in it. Another thing, Inez's name is Montes in the show. This would actually make her not truly related to Francisco for it would mean she married his brother. I changed this. Her name in this is Herrera, and she is Francisco's widowed sister.</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Prologue and Mexico City

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Walt Disney's Zorro and I make no monetary profit from this.

Prologue: Long Before They Met

Diego didn't understand why they were at Mass. It wasn't Sunday. The almost four year old squirmed in his father's arms, but Alejandro's grip didn't loosen. The atmosphere in the church was solemn, but Diego knew that outside it was a lovely summer day and he wanted to be outside. He didn't like his black clothes either and squirmed even more.

"Diego, calm." Alejandro said. "We must pay our respects to Francisco and Magdalena." Diego didn't understand what his father's words meant but understood the tone and stopped squirming.

Finally, they were leaving. Diego was glad but his glee ended when he saw how slow the line was going out of church. He sighed and leaned his dark head against his father's shoulder. Finally they were almost out. He straightened. A man was standing at the back, and everyone was shaking his hand. He was sad faced, and next to him stood an older, stern looking woman holding a little girl. Diego had seen this girl before, but couldn't remember her name. He knew it was hard to say. As they approached the sad man, he took the girl out of the woman's arms.

"Alejandro!" He said, and, for a moment, seemed happy. Alejandro clasped his friend's hand tightly. He knew the pain of losing a wife. "Francisco, God be with you. How are you?"

"I am managing. Magdalena helps." He said, and the little girl turned a bit in her father's arms. Diego was confronted with dark, solemn eyes. Most babies he had seen, like Rosie and Neta had happy eyes and giggled. Magdalena didn't say anything; Diego couldn't remember her speaking ever. Now, though, as Alejandro stepped closer to have quiet words with Francisco, she reached out and touched Diego's hand. Diego reached out his other hand to touch her hair. It was very soft and he was fascinated. What else was this soft? He kept patting her hair until the two men noticed, and their quiet laughter startled him into pulling his hand away. Magdalena's grip on his other hand tightened, though, and she didn't want him to leave, Diego knew that.

"Mada…" He said but couldn't get farther. "Lena! Madalena!" He said excitedly. She startled and pulled her hand away.

"Diego certainly likes her," Francisco said, a bit of cheer in his voice. "If we weren't going to Mexico City they'd certainly have fun together."

"So you decided?" Alejandro asked.

"Si. We will leave in a few weeks. My sister, Inez, went before me to tell our parents. Since Roberto died she has been lost. It's a pity she never had a child."

Alejandro nodded. "I will be sorry to see you leave, but I understand. Tell me when you are leaving, so I can come to say adios."

"Si. Gracias, Alejandro." Francisco said and began speaking to the people after Alejandro. Diego turned to look at Magdalena as they left. She watched him back, and her eyes were as solemn as ever.

A Few Days Later…

Alejandro clasped Francisco's hand in farewell. "I am sorry you are leaving, Francisco. You will be missed."

Francisco smiled painfully. "I will miss you, also. But we have family in Mexico City; my parents, you know, as well as my cousin Valentina. Magdalena needs women in her life. Poor Adela," he said, tears coming to his eyes as he crossed himself. "May she rest in peace. She wanted so much to be with Magdalena at the end."

Alejandro nodded. "My-Diego's mother was the same. She kept him close to her to her last hour." A silent sob rose in his throat and the two men fell silent, both dwelling on their beloved, and now deceased, spouses. They looked over to where Diego, Alejandro's four year-old son, played with Magdalena, Francisco's 11 month old daughter. Young as he was, Diego knew enough to be gentle with Magdalena, and seemed to harbor a quiet admiration for the babe. He especially seemed to like her dark brown curls, he kept gently tugging them. Magdalena just looked at him, eyes wide, unblinking.

"They would make a fine match," Alejandro said wistfully. Francisco nodded in agreement. "Maybe someday we will return to Los Angeles. When the two are of age…"

The two widowers continued gazing upon their respective children. Magdalena had reached up and was patting Diego's cheek. Diego clasped her hand and kept it there for a moment, before Magdalena pulled it away. Her gaze was solemn as she gazed upon Diego.  
"Can she walk yet?" Alejandro asked, reluctant to interrupt the pleasant scene before them.

"She can stand, well, pull herself up. Then she seems too puzzled to do much more and just sits down again."

As the two watched, Magdalena crawled to a chair and pulled herself up into a standing position, clutching the edge of the chair. Diego rose and followed her.

"We should let you be going." Alejandro said, and strode over to pick up Diego. He didn't like it, and kicked to be put down. Alejandro chuckled. "I guess he wants to walk." He set his son down again. "Diego, we have to leave. Say adios to Magdalena."

"Don't want to go." Diego said, but walked back over to Magdalena and took her hand. This put her off balance and she plopped to the floor again. Diego crouched down so he was eye level. "Adios, Magdalena." He stumbled a bit over her name, but managed it. He then kissed her soft forehead.

Alejandro sighed. "He must remember his mother doing that. She always kissed him goodbye, even at the end."

"Si," Francisco said simply. He came over to pick up Magdalena as Alejandro picked up Diego. The two men shook hands again and Alejandro turned to go. Diego started waving madly to Magdalena. "Adios, adios!" He called. Magdalena waved a chubby hand back, straining towards Diego. "Diego!" She called in a soft voice but Alejandro and his son were gone. Magdalena burrowed her head into her father's jacket. "Diego…" she whispered, and was soon asleep.

Part One: Mexico City

Alenez stood when she came in.

"Senorita." He said simply.

She nodded. "I have been summoned home," she said abruptly. She withdrew a letter from her reticule and placed it on the desk separating them. He took it.

"July 19, 1821. My dearest daughter Magdalena, it is with a joyful, yet burdened, heart that I call you home to me. I meant to send for you sooner—but you know all that. Dearest, I have heard rumors that you have been seen with caballeros of unsavory character. I have denied them all, all the while hoping they were not true. When you write me back, please explain the basis of these rumors so that when you return we may begin anew. Los Angeles is beautiful right now. If only you could be here sooner! Diego de la Vega has returned, I have heard. He has turned into a handsome young man. Don Alejandro came to see me and he and I both agreed it would be a fine match. Ah, daughter, what joy it would give me to see you wed. Knowing that you are safe and secure is most important to me. I have sent Inez to fetch you. I am not strong enough yet for a long journey like that. She should arrive soon after my letter. Via con Dios, my daughter."

Alenez laughed. "What a fool your father is—"

"Do not speak of him that way!" Magdalena said sharply, rising.

Alenez stopped himself from continuing. "You still respect your father?"

"What I have done has nothing to do with him. He has nothing to do with this. I came to see you because it seems I can no longer be of use to you, seeing how far I'm going from Mexico City." Magdalena finished quickly.

Alenez scoffed "Do you really think we are still a two man operation? Silly girl. We have messengers all over." He suddenly reached across the desk and clamped his hand around her wrist. "And you are one of them. You are in too deep, senorita; you passed the point of no return long ago."

She tried to shake his hand off but had to pry it from her wrist using her other hand. "How could I still be of use? You heard what my father said, he wishes—no, plans!—for me to marry!"

"Yes, who is this idiot vaquero he mentions?"

"Do you not recognize the name?" Magdalena exclaimed. "Diego de la Vega is not a vaquero! He is the son of Alejandro."

"Ah, the wealthiest landowner in California. Maybe your father is not a fool."

Magdalena again rose in her seat in anger. His gaze shot to her and she settled.

"If you married Diego de la Vega you would be of even more use to us! Think of the connections you'd have!"

"No!" She cried out. His gaze snapped to her and hardened. "You have no say in this, senorita. You know how many…accidents could happen to unchaperoned senoritas."

"My maid waits for me in the carriage."

"So? As it happens, I received word from our leader yesterday."

"He is not my leader!" Magdalena exclaimed.

"Be quiet. Now listen. The feather I am going to give you goes to Don Carlos Galindo, Magistrado of the pueblo de Los Angeles…"

Magdalena hurried back to her waiting carriage. Her maid, Renata, was relieved to see her return.

"I do not understand why you insist upon coming here." She said as Magdalena climbed in with undue haste. "Honestly, Renata, neither do I." Her mistress responded and rapped on the ceiling. "Make haste to home!" She called. She didn't speak again the whole way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to bridge off of my Sweet Face novelization but then events clashed with the Next Day part I added to it, so this was separate also. I hope you find this to be a good representation of Magdalena, and keep in mind that this is a Magdalena story and won't have as much Diego/Zorro in it. Another thing, Inez's name is Montes in the show. This would actually make her not truly related to Francisco for it would mean she married his brother. I changed this. Her name in this is Herrera, and she is Francisco's widowed sister.


	2. Travelling

Part Two: Traveling

* * *

 

Inez moaned in her bunk. "I have never gotten seasick before, I do not understand this. Ooh…Magdalena, fetch me my shawl."

Magdalena did as her aunt asked, feeling a headache coming on. "I need to get some air." She said. "Con permiso, Inez?"

"Oh, all right, but do not stay on deck too long. Ooh, I feel wretched."

Magdalena hurried up on deck. The sea air felt wonderful on her face. Spying many men, but few women, on deck she pulled her shawl more tightly around her. Her dress, a dark green walking gown, rippled around her legs. She felt, rather than saw, the men's gazes on her. Relief spread through her when she ascertained none would approach her. She didn't have time for what these caballeros would call romance. She reached the rail and grasped it tightly. She inhaled the sea air and tried to pretend that the eagle feather, which currently resided in her trunk, was not so ominous. Truth be told, she could not read the message. Alenez, sensing her second thoughts, had never taught her the language.

"Senorita." A man tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around in surprise. A small, dark man with a French looking mustache stood there. "It is not safe for you to be so close to the rail." The man said, gesturing her away from it.

She stepped away from him. "Gracias, senor." She said quietly, turning to escape.

"Wait, senorita, I did not—"

She hurried back to her cabin, not looking back. What manners, she thought. Why would he speak to me in that manner? I do not know him. We have not been introduced, and my duena was not with me.

Oh? That did not matter with Alenez, a sly voice hissed in her head. She angrily let herself back inside the cabin, vowing to not back on deck.

* * *

 

That vow was quickly broken, when the very next morning, Inez felt better. "I knew it wouldn't last!" She said chirpily. "Where is Renata? I need help with my dress."

"I'll do it, Inez." Magdalena volunteered. Her fingers flew up the back of her aunt's blue dress, fastening it securely.

"Gracias, Magdalena. You are most helpful. Now let us go on deck; it is terribly stuffy in here!" She said and led Magdalena up to deck. To Magdalena's relief, there were more ladies on deck today. A petite, raven haired senorita passed her, arm in arm with who appeared to be her father, going back below deck. "Maybe once we are in Monterey," she heard the father saying.

A sigh escaped Magdalena. If only her father hadn't gone back to Los Angeles so suddenly, perhaps she wouldn't have felt so lost and lonely in that damned city. And she had been forced to stay with her father's cousin Valentina—a sharp tongued widow who belittled Magdalena every chance she got.  
And the girls there, besides Bonita—and while Bonita was kind, she was also spineless and not much of a friend—most of them were nasty little things who gossiped if you simply didn't wear your mantilla at the evening meal. Shameless, they called her. Loose, when she had stopped to give a man directions. "Well, she is from California. No wonder she doesn't have correct manners." She didn't even remember her time in California! "No wonder her father left her here when he returned to Los Angeles. I'd be ashamed of her too." They'd said upon finding her paying a street musician.

Well, she knew it wasn't protocol to talk with strange men, but that tune he had played was so…haunting, almost, that she had been desperate to learn it, and had had him play it over and over again so she might remember it.

And then there was Pilar de Santos, a tall, forceful girl, with a nice figure but a plain face and an ugly temperament. Because of an unfortunate incident at a dance, when Pilar's betrothed had asked Magdalena to dance instead of Pilar, she had vowed to hate Magdalena and she had made every fiesta Magdalena had gone to after that a horror, especially the cursed Varga one…

She had just turned nineteen, and Valentina had begrudgingly bought her a white dress with the money her father had sent. It was beautiful and Magdalena took pride in how the men looked at her with hungry eyes and the women with envy. But Pilar had spilled her wine all down the front of the dress. The whole thing had been ruined and Magdalena had simply stood a moment, trying to keep herself under control. She didn't want to even contemplate what Valentina would say if she saw her thusly. She had to get her shawl. Her cheeks burning, she nevertheless refused to let her embarrassment show and held her head high as she walked through the crowd to get it. Maybe that was why Alenez had approached her, because she had shown such pride. He had complimented her on her decorum. She had thought, that night, that because he was so much older, enough to be her grandfather, he could be no harm. Oh, how wrong she'd been.

She came back to the present to find a man bowing to Inez and herself. "I am Sebastian Mendoza." He said, attempting to take Inez's hand to kiss. She pulled it away from his hand but not particularly obviously. "I am Inez Herrera. This is my niece, Magdalena Montes."

"It is a pleasure." He said and took Magdalena's hand before she could pull it away. His lips brushed it and his mustache was sharp, poking her. She wished she'd worn gloves, but then found herself softening towards Senor Mendoza. He was poorly dressed and he had been rather forward yesterday, but it had only been to warn her away from the rail. She nodded to him as he straightened and a smile spread over his face. "Senorita Montes, may I—"

"No," Inez said sharply. "Come along, Magdalena."

Well, Magdalena didn't like him enough to protest her aunt's rudeness. She let herself be pulled away but turned to wave farewell to him. She was surprised to see a shrewd, calculating look on his face as he turned away.

* * *

 

Dinner was a formal affair. There was a small dining room aboard the ship. Seats were not assigned; and Magdalena and Inez found themselves joined by Senor Mendoza and the father-daughter duo Magdalena had seen earlier. "I am Don Gregorio Verdugo, and this is my daughter, Anna Maria." He announced as they sat down.

"I am Dona Inez Herrera and this is my niece, Magdalena." Inez said and Don Gregorio nodded.

Senor Mendoza was less impressive. "Sebastian Mendoza." He said simply. Don Gregorio's gaze merely skated over him.

"We have just finished a month long stay in Mexico City," Anna Maria told Magdalena. "It was wonderful. We went to the most wonderful fiestas and I got three new gowns because mine were out of style! This is one of them." She said, gesturing over herself. She wore a very elaborate blue silk, trimmed in black lace with a very delicate lace shawl to go around it. The skirt had flounces. Magdalena acknowledged that it was a very beautiful gown and Anna Maria beamed at the compliment.

As for the other passengers there, there were three senoritas who appeared to be traveling together, with an aged old aunt for duena, and some random caballeros. She did not care to remember the men's names but the girls were Lupe Santiago, Lolita Duarte and Rafaela Medina. Magdalena did not have many female friends—Bonita could barely count— and couldn't remember ever being close to a another woman. From as far back she remembered, she had had few women in her life. Her grandmother had died when Magdalena was three, and she therefore had no memories of her either. She had grown up in a man's world and that had made girls shy of her. She was too pretty, too good at riding, too at ease with boys. Bonita had visited frequently but all her visits had been mind numbingly dull and though Magdalena had been grateful for her company, she had always been relieved when the girl took her leave.

As it was the first evening, everyone had worn their best. Anna Maria's gown was by far the fanciest there. Lupe was charming in a pink gown, Lolita in a purple and Rafaela in red, as was Magdalena, but Rafaela's dress was brighter. Magdalena wore her best dress, an orangeish red gown, with long tight sleeves, a tight bodice and a full skirt. Though her skirt was fuller, as her gown was meant for dancing and Anna Maria's wasn't, the other girl's gown was undeniably grander.

But Anna Maria was friendly and honest. It was obvious to everyone that the Verdugos were very close, and Anna Maria obviously loved her father very much and he took great pride in his elegant daughter. "Father has a grand plan," Anna Maria was saying. "We are always so short of things in California, and soon he will be going straight to the King to get more supplies. Of course, we need donations and nothing is finalized but my father plans to help all of California get their fair due of supplies. We plan to go in the next year." Her eyes shone with excitement. "Of course, I will go with him to meet the King."

She squeezed her father's hand and Magdalena felt the sting of jealousy. Why hadn't her father taken her with him when he returned to Los Angeles? Surely it made more sense than leaving her. If only his health had prevailed or he hadn't chosen for her to have such a grand upbringing, she would still have no secrets from him, nothing to feel bitter about.

The other senoritas, especially Rafaela, hung around their table after the meal ended. Magdalena found herself liking Rafaela. She had certain fierceness, boldness, about her and it showed. She was outspoken and unafraid. She challenged the men's ideas on things. Why is that she is merely dubbed outspoken, yet I am 'loose'? Magdalena wondered. The evening was wonderful for Magdalena. She couldn't remember ever smiling more or laughing in the company of women. The girls seemed to like her in return, and everything was lovely until the end of the evening.

"So you are Magdalena Herrera?" Anna Maria asked. The other girls had departed and only the Verdugos were at their table now. They too were getting ready to return to their cabins.

"No, I am Magdalena Montes. My father is Francisco."

"Francisco?" Don Gregorio queried. "I don't think I've personally met him but I have heard mention of him. I believe Alejandro de la Vega has mentioned him. You know the de la Vegas, si?" He asked. Magdalena was happy to say she did.

"Si, Alejandro and my father are great friends." Magdalena assured him.

Inez added, "They are hopeful of a match between her and Diego." Gregorio's eyes twinkled. "Ah. Alejandro is a good man. We fought many battles together during the war."

Magdalena nodded, only then noticing how still Anna Maria had become since she had named herself as Magdalena Montes, not Herrera.

She and Inez excused themselves and were going to their cabin when Inez realized she'd left her gloves at the table and sent Magdalena back for them. As Magdalena walked, she accidentally overheard the Verdugos speaking.

  
"Father, that was Magdalena Montes." Anna Maria hissed.

"Si, daughter of Francisco."

"I heard many rumors of her when we were in Mexico City. It is said she is…loose."

"She was very well mannered tonight."

"Still, father, we would not want to be associated with a woman of her…questionable reputation."

"All right, Anna Maria. We will not speak with her again."

* * *

 

The very next day, Rafaela was approaching her, when Anna Maria darted out and told her something. Magdalena had watched, out of the corner of her eye, as Rafaela considered this bit of news that Anna Maria had given. She silently cheered when Rafaela brushed past Anna Maria and sat down next to Magdalena.

"I hear you do not have the most sterling of reputations," she said matter-of-factly. "I would just like to know—are these rumors based at all in fact?"

"Some of them are," Magdalena returned. Rafaela looked surprised at her honesty.

"Do you care to say which ones?"

"Not really," Magdalena ducked her head, pretending the sun was too bright.

Rafaela tipped her head, considering. "I don't like to do this. I like you. But Lupe is a very fragile girl and Lolita is on the verge of being proposed to. For their sakes, I won't keep company with you. If I were alone, none of these things would matter, but they are like sisters to me." She stood again. "I would say to not take it personally, but I don't suppose there is any other way to take it."

Magdalena also stood. "I greatly appreciate you telling me why you will avoid me from hereon."

Rafaela smiled and turned to look at the sun, some bitterness showing in her expression. "I've done silly things also."

* * *

 

Days passed in blurs of gazes skating away Magdalena and Inez. The vaqueros still made their way to her side, but she rebuffed them firmly, unconsciously trying to prove herself to Rafaela.

But still, the women avoided her, and only Senor Mendoza sat at their table. As much as Magdalena pretended it didn't bother her, the pitying glances Lupe shot at her, the scandalized peeks Lolita made and the complete avoidance of eye contact from Rafaela overwhelmed her one night and Magdalena couldn't stand it anymore and excused herself, going up on deck and choking back the tears that threatened as she paced in the moonlight.

"Senorita Montes, are you all right?" It was Senor Mendoza who had sought her out. Magdalena stiffened. She turned; ready to lash out at him but…he held an eagle feather.

"Is this the source of your troubles?" He asked, twirling it.

She only nodded, shaken. Mendoza smiled slightly. "I thought so. I was sent by the Viceroy to spy on you; he knows you are an agent of the Eagle. I saw the reluctance in you; you do not wish to follow him any longer. I offer you safety. Tell me what you know and I shall protect you from Alenez's wrath."

He must be telling the truth, he even knew of Alenez, one of the Eagle's best agents because he was believed to be unknown by the Eagle's enemies.

Her whole world stopped spinning. Was there truly a way out? "Si, si!" She exclaimed, reaching for his hand to seal the deal.  
Anna Maria and Don Gregorio chose that moment to emerge on deck just as her hand touched Mendoza's. Both looked at her in shock and Magdalena felt simply frozen, unable to pull her hand from Mendoza's. Anna Maria raised her nose in the air and pulled her father along with her as they hurried away.  
Tears again stinging, but this time from anger, Magdalena ripped her hand from Mendoza's grasp and fled to her room.

* * *

 

In the morning, though, Magdalena sought him out and handed him a letter she had spent all night writing. Mendoza seemed surprised she had kept her word and took the missive silently. Magdalena returned to Inez's side and spent the day waiting on her now very seasick aunt, who again bemoaned how strange it was for her to be seasick.

When night fell, Mendoza handed her a missive under the guise of taking off his hat. When she finally reached her room, she read it slowly.

_"Senorita Montes, it is imperative you give false word to the Magistrado. You described to me what the feather was like, and I believe by altering it we could deal a severe blow to the Eagle's plans. The boat is docking tomorrow; it is best if I tell you the rest in person. I too will be continuing on to Los Angeles. Under your aunt's eye, we won't be able to speak. It will have to be after we have reached Los Angeles but before you hand it over to the Magistrado. Do no contact me in Los Angeles until the morning after your arrival there. I will explain everything when we speak then, and help you alter the feather. Sebastian Mendoza."_

Magdalena finished the letter and felt as though a great load had been lifted from her. When she said her prayers that night, she said a whole Rosary for Sebastian Mendoza.

The ship indeed docked the next morning. To Rafaela's credit, she sought Magdalena out to say goodbye.

"So you are going to Los Angeles?" She asked, leaning in the doorway while Magdalena knelt by her trunk, digging through it for her gold shawl.

"Si, that is where my father's rancho is," Magdalena told her, uncovering a silk stocking without a pair but no shawl.

"You are lucky," Rafaela said.

"To be going to Los Angeles?" Magdalena stood, giving up on finding the shawl.

"Of course! Who wouldn't wish to go there?"

"What is the attraction that Los Angeles holds?" Magdalena asked, completely confused. "Isn't it very small and boring?"

Rafaela's eyes twinkled. "Probably, but the inhabitants aren't." Seeing that Magdalena was still confused, she laughed and continued.

"I am speaking of El Zorro!"

"What is so important about the foxes in Los Angeles?"

Rafaela smiled. "You truly have no idea."

Magdalena raised an eyebrow. Rafaela simply laughed again. "Take this," she said, giving her a handkerchief. "Something to remember me by. A handkerchief is a most pitiful parting gift, but I don't have anything else."

In return, Magdalena handed her the stocking she had found with no pair and both women burst out laughing. "I now regret even more that I avoided you," Rafaela said seriously. "I shouldn't have cared about those things."

Magdalena shook her head. "You were thinking of your friends."

"That was no excuse." Still holding the stocking, Rafaela embraced her. "I live in San Francisco. Write to me sometime, invite me for a visit, eh?"

Magdalena nodded and Rafaela slipped away.

* * *

 

There was no coach leaving straight away to Los Angeles, due to some difficulty with the driver, and that was good, for Inez was not yet prepared to endure hours in an airless coach. The coach that would leave at the Angelus hour. This left them eight hours to spend in San Pedro. They spent it walking around before Inez decided she must rest before they left and they spent the rest of the day having a siesta at the inn there. At six, the coach left, with plans to stop for the night around ten o'clock.

When they boarded the coach to Los Angeles, Inez's lips pursed to see Mendoza join them. No other passengers were on the coach. Magdalena momentarily wondered what coaches the other passengers had taken but that was driven from her mind when the coach started.

They traveled into the night and finally stopped at the inn, later than planned. It had the most uncomfortable beds Magdalena had ever felt and she gave up trying to sleep around two in the morning, getting up and walking to the window. The moon's light shone down on her, comforting her. She felt tears slip down her cheeks and suddenly found herself sobbing violently, albeit without a sound.

She wasn't sure why exactly she cried. Maybe it was for herself and her lost innocence. She had been exposed to the world too suddenly, beginning with her mother's death as a result of a knifing, and her subsequent short childhood that soon turned to unhappy teenage years in the heart of Mexico City. Maybe it was for the loss of a promising friendship with Rafaela.

Maybe it was for her father, and all the things he did—could never—know about his only, beloved child.

Magdalena slid down against the wall, letting her body relax. She would just stay here a moment more, basking in the moonlight.

When she woke it was just dawn. The sun shone red beams through the window. Magdalena stood with the knowledge they would reach Los Angeles today. She would meet her father, and, most likely, the de la Vegas. Her father was not one to waste time.

Magdalena felt unsurprisingly stiff and sleepy as she dressed in a plain gown suitable for hours of riding in a coach, and yet she felt a sense of calm wash over her. Tomorrow Senor Mendoza would help her alter the feather. Maybe they could even change it to read that Magdalena would no longer work for the Eagle. With this thought she smiled at her reflection. All would be well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of feel like I made the girls in Mexico City be too harsh, but I also feel like rumors would not swirl to the extreme that they would reach Los Angeles if she were well liked there and if she were well liked there, she would have been that much less likely to get involved with the Eagle. Happy people generally don't do stupid things like that. Plus, when I wrote this, I found myself remembering the part in the Music Man, when Marian is confronting Harold Hill
> 
> "One hears rumors about traveling salesmen."
> 
> "Oh, now, you mustn't believe everything you hear. After all, one even hears rumors about librarians." And then later,
> 
> "And as you say, if a salesman or somebody were jealous...they could be downright lies, now, couldn't they?"
> 
> Rafaela won't show up again. I know that it was a bit silly to add the Verdugos but Magdalena does seem to tense up when Diego mentions fellow passengers and then relax when she realizes he meant Mendoza. So what else happened on the boat? A flirtation is more likely but it would have been less fun to write.


	3. Grim Tidings

Her good mood disappeared when she walked down the stairs to find Mendoza signaling frantically.

She walked over to him as casually as she could, heart pounding.

"Things have changed." Mendoza said quickly. "I cannot—" he broke off at the sight of Inez descending the stairs. He dashed from the inn, leaving Magdalena agitated.

Thankfully, he still boarded the coach, and even more thankfully, Inez fell into a doze, leaving Magdalena and Mendoza free to speak.

"Things altered in the night." Mendoza began quietly. "I no longer believe we can alter the feather safely. News came…the feather language is much more complicated than I thought. It is not merely the cut of the feather, I have learned, but the message—and the orders it carries—changes depending on who is carrying it and when they arrive. The moon will be full the next few nights. I have been told this changes the message drastically."

"Do you know what it says currently?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Judging by the choice of messenger, something relatively harmless. A confirmation of plans or a request for information."

Magdalena tried to work this out. "So you can do nothing for me?"

He opened his mouth, then seemed to reconsider and closed it again.

"Why did you raise my hopes so, only to dash them?" She cried. 

His face grew fierce. "You dashed them yourself! Did your thirst for adventure really lead you this far? Or are you simply an idioto, to carry things that have no meaning for you besides excitement? What kind of selfish fool—" He broke off sharply.

Her eyes stung. "You rescind your offer of protection then?" She asked stiffly.

Mendoza sighed. "When I was put on this assignment, I was told to use my own judgement in regards to you. Now I have been told you are not to be trusted in any way. They told me I must not offer you protection, that they cannot afford to speak for your safety." His eyes were downcast. "I am truly sorry, senorita."

He did not speak for the rest of the journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally just part of the traveling chapter, and that is why it is so short. Mendoza's words to Magdalena were some of the hardest for me to write and I rewrote them countless times. Now I am finally satisfied with them. (I just hope I stay satisfied.)


	4. Los Angeles

Part Four: Los Angeles

* * *

When they reached the pueblo de Los Angeles, Magdalena had spent the entire ride in the coach choking back tears.

This had changed her mood greatly and she simply felt overwhelmed by everything. A fat, clumsy sergeant waited to inspect their luggage and inquire of their names and business. Inez was still tired; she had not slept well, and so Magdalena had to take care of this, wondering why the sergeant needed this since Inez was a resident of Los Angeles and had been for many years. Magdalena refused to meet the sergeant's gaze, kind as it was, she was afraid the tears that threatened would spill out onto this clumsily helpful man.

Her father was there then, just as she finished with the sergeant. He stopped in the doorway of the tavern, which they had entered to avoid the noonday sun. He simply stood there, looking at her for a moment before Magdalena catapulted herself into his arms, clinging to him and letting her tears fall free. "Oh, father, father!" She gasped, feeling overwhelmed at all the emotions roiling in her. He, too, cried to have his daughter back with him after all this time.

She did not know how long they stood there, clinging to each other, tears running down their faces even as they smiled with joy to see each other. People smiled to see this joyous reunion. The sergeant patted her shoulder clumsily as he left he tavern to go on his rounds. Finally, she pulled away, and Inez handed her a handkerchief, which she gladly took. She was so glad to see her father, he was so loving and wonderful and hers. She stopped envying Anna Maria then. Her father was not half so nice.

They started talking then, walking to a table, their words spilling over each others in excitement. Then her father seemed a bit hesitant. "I told Don Alejandro that we might visit today, if you were not too tired from your journey," he finished, looking at her anxiously.

"Si, but may we see your hacienda first?"

"And Magdalena and I must change first!" Inez told Francisco.

He nodded. "Oh, of course." He said. "Then let us go my hacienda, where you may do that."

* * *

As they rode out to the rancho Montes, she realized the reason Inez had been so insistent they change. _Diego de la Vega_. In truth, he had not crossed her thoughts since her conversation with Alenez about him.

 _What exactly do I know about Diego de la Vega?_ She mused. _I do not know when he returned from Spain, or when he originally left to go there!_  
"Tell me about Diego de la Vega." She stated.

Her father chuckled. "You do know why I was so insistent to see Alejandro so soon. All right. I hear that in childhood he was a bit of a rascal, but a gentlemanly one. He was not immune to playing pranks but only on those who could handle it. He was forever banging about with a wooden sword, Alejandro always said."

He paused. "That was how Alejandro always described him in letters. We kept up a regular correspondence, you know. Of course, when I returned he was already, oh, fifteen and had calmed down somewhat. He still practiced with swords but was not remarkable. He was very good with his studies and rode horses almost constantly. Back when I first returned you'd see Diego de la Vega riding horses at breakneck paces almost every day. He was very active and friendly. He went to Spain when he was eighteen, I believe, and returned, oh, three years later, almost completely changed. Not in a bad way, but he is very different. He seems to have lost all skill with a blade, and with it, all interest. He dresses like the worst sort of dandy and reads poetry constantly. He usually rides in a little carriage with his mozo now, instead of on horseback. He does still ride but not like he used to."

He paused again. "But he is still a very warm, friendly young man. He would be the first to help someone in need, the first to see the need. Diego de la Vega is a good man, one of the best I know, he simply no longer takes after his father." He finished, and then added, "But considering Alejandro's temper, that might not be a bad thing."

* * *

They reached the Montes hacienda and Magdalena was suddenly pushed into motion. Inez frantically supervised her dressing—making sure her hair was perfect, not one hair out of place, and picking her dress. It was lavender with black trim on the bodice, and tight at the waist. When Magdalena looked in the mirror, even she smiled.

The ride from the pueblo had given glorious color to her cheeks and there were twinkles in her eyes that she could never remember having been there before. Her whole being seemed to radiate with happiness and beauty. The dress was her best, and it showed off her figure to perfection. Though Magdalena was not a vain woman, she knew that she was beautiful, and more than that, she knew the effect she could have on men. And this dress, making her look voluptuous and slim at the same time, would be a deadly weapon when facing Diego de la Vega. Knowing men, he would not know where to put his eyes.

As Inez handed her white gloves and her shawl, her eyes twinkled too. "Diego is very handsome." She whispered. "And kind. It would indeed be a wonderful match."

* * *

The ride to the de la Vega hacienda was short and pleasant. When they reached it, and her father offered his hand to help her down, she took it slowly. The de la Vega hacienda was definitely bigger and grander than any other she had seen on the ride over, but it spoke of hard earned wealth and generations of fighting Spaniards instead of inherited money like certain homes in Mexico City.

And then there was Don Alejandro himself, a jovial silver haired man, who greeted them all like family.  
"Francisco!" He said, coming from the sala and embracing him. "And Magdalena." He said, turning to her. He kissed her hand briefly, giving her a once over. "You did not exaggerate her beauty, Francisco. Hello, Dona Inez."

"Don Alejandro," she returned, offering her hand with a smile.

"Diego rode into Los Angeles but he should be back soon," Alejandro assured as he led them into the sala.  
Indeed, they had only been talking a few minutes when they heard hoof beats, then footsteps going up the outside stairs. "That will be Diego." Alejandro said, rising. "I will fetch him. Con permiso?" He said, and hurried out of the sala to go up the stairs.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but it seemed to take longer than it should have for Alejandro to return, and when he did, his irritation was obvious. "Diego will be down in a moment." He said briskly, and poured himself a small glass of wine.

Obviously Diego had showed reluctance to come down. _Why?_ She asked herself, but had no time to dwell on it for Inez was speaking. "Why don't you go over to the piano?" She said cajolingly. "Play that lovely tune you played my first night in Mexico City."

Magdalena nodded and headed to the piano. She took a moment to gather her thoughts and began to play. A soft, wistful sounding tune rose from the piano. The music took her back to one of the only happy days she remembered from her years without her father in Mexico City, spent shopping at a street market. She had heard a street musician as he walked play this tune, and had stayed for the whole thing, asking him to play it again and again so she might memorize it. She had spent that whole evening playing it over and over, making sure she had it right, and memorizing it.

The door to the sala opened. She heard a rich, baritone voice greeting her father and Inez. She heard footsteps get closer to the piano. Her father was saying, "As you know, she was raised in Mexico City."

"That is an excellent recommendation for Mexico City." Diego offered, as he reached her side and looked down at her. She turned her head to meet his gaze but words failed her as she did, and she quickly turned her attention back to the piano. _My, he is handsome, isn't he?_ She thought, her cheeks flushing at his proximity and seemingly intense scrutiny of her.

"That's beautiful; what is it?" Diego asked. Her heartbeat seemed to quicken. "I don't know. I heard it played by a street musician, and, I loved it," she told him. Her heartbeat wouldn't slow.

"It's much too pretty to be just a tune, it should be a song!" Diego declared, his voice exuberant. She met his eyes again and what she saw there surprised her. He did not want to be here, he did not want to like her. Her heartbeat slowed momentarily. Rumors must have reached him too. Well, she might as well confirm his suspicions, if he was the type of man to judge someone based on the rumors people told about them.

"But you need words for a song." She protested, trying to sound coy and, to her ears, failing. _And you need knowledge for judgement,_ she added bitterly in her mind.

His tone was easy. "I find that you need words for almost everything. However, I have some that I should like to suggest."

Her heartbeat started a staccato beat in her chest. His voice was so…compelling. "What are they?" She let huskiness creep into her voice as she met his gaze again. She saw him swallow.

"Welcome home, Magdalena." His voice got noticeably deeper. He was being conquered.

 _Served him right._ If he wanted her to play the flirt, she would.

"I feel as though I am home now. But still, I am glad you did not know me in my awkward growing up stage."

He laughed. "We might have had a beautiful childhood together." He leaned in to say these words, his eyes sparkling.

Don Alejandro spoke then, mentioning 'Diego's' desire to take her for a drive. _I do not think Diego wishes to take me anywhere,_ she thought, adding, _yet._

Diego was saying how his father spoke his mind so well, and then requested something to eat. Inez spoke up, requesting 'something for her, too'.

"My aunt will watch over us as duena." Magdalena stated. "Whatever fun we might have had, we are not children now."

Diego reached for her hand to help her up. She felt grateful she'd taken her gloves off to play the piano. His hand enveloped hers.

"I find that the older we get, the more watching we need." Diego said as they started to the dining room. Her hand tightened on his. She could hear his sharp intake of breath. Magdalena knew that he truly meant his seemingly blithe statement.

* * *

Something to eat was soup, a fowl and rice. The soup turned out to be delicious and she greatly enjoyed it, lingering over her bowl.

"I had a terrifying encounter in de pueblo this morning." Diego announced. "A man was murdered in broad daylight, with Sergeant Garcia not twenty feet away!"

"How terrifying!" Inez exclaimed.

"Who was it?" Alejandro inquired,

Diego shrugged, cutting off more meat. "I don't know. I'd never seen him before."

Magdalena lifted another spoonful to her mouth just as Diego looked over at her. She couldn't help licking the spoon. Diego seemed unable to look away as she did so, his mouth parting slightly. She lowered her eyes and put down her spoon. Diego had to shake his head to clear it and she fought the urge to do it again. Once could be considered chance, twice, he'd know she did it on purpose so he'd see. Besides, her soup was gone.

Diego had taken a leg from the fowl, and he ate that with his hands, but Magdalena had been given breast meat and used her knife and fork to cut it. She cut it into small pieces, and ate it slowly, now paying more attention to the conversation instead of the food.

"You were ill then, and never left your hacienda, so maybe you don't recall." Alejanrdo was saying to her father. "But Monastario was a tyrant! In the year you were bedridden—"

Her father had been bedridden? She glanced over at him. Well, he looked well now. He was pale though.

Alejandro was continuing. "Monastario taxed the peons out of existence. All those laws and penalties, it was madness! Everyone who could leave did! It was only when things escalated, when Nacho Torres was arrested, that Zorro appeared and fought Monastario's reign." He nodded emphatically. "May God ride with Zorro."

"Zorro?" Magdalena asked curiously, remembering Rafaela's words, and feeling surprised that this Zorro was something real. Across the table, Diego dropped the spoon he had been raising to his mouth back into the bowl. It clattered loudly. Diego jumped slightly; it seemed he had been so deep in his thoughts he hadn't meant to drop the spoon and was just as startled as the rest of them. But why had her mention of Zorro caused his attention to jump back to the table conversation?

"A masked man, a crusader for justice. No one knows his identity; he only rides when he is needed."

"I still don't understand." Magdalena said.

"His horse, as black as his clothes, is the fastest in the country. When someone is arrested or persecuted wrongly, Zorro rides on his black steed to correct the wrong. He even battled straight against Monastario! He protected the people and caused the end of Monastario's reign." Alejandro said. "He saved Nacho Torres' life, and mine."

"Yours?" Magdalena asked, her meal forgotten.

"Si. The other dons and I—excepting your father, he was still bedridden—hatched a plan to free Torres' wife and daughter, who Monastario had imprisoned. It was a trap, though. Zorro saved my life and the others dons by riding in and telling us so. I was not so quick though, and Monastario shot me." Alejandro's voice grew grim. "If Zorro hadn't still been there, I would have died. He whisked me away on that black horse of his and…" his voice faded.

'He saved your life the next day too, didn't he, father?" Diego asked. He had a pensive look on his face.

"Si. I stumbled out of my hiding place, delirious with fever, and Monastario found me. He would have finished me off, but for Zorro's coming." Alejandro looked down at his wine glass, thoughtful.

"How terrifying," Magdalena said softly, wondering if Zorro could help her. "I am glad this Monastario is not still here."

"Indeed!" Alejandro exclaimed vehemently. "It's funny, but at the end Monastario was convinced that Diego—my Diego—was Zorro! He dueled him in front of the Viceroy even. Of course, the real Zorro rode by then. The Viceroy arrested Monastario immediately. He got what was coming to him."

Diego now looked uncomfortable. "Please, father, let us speak of other things."

"Did you enjoy growing up in Mexico City?" Alejandro asked Magdalena, turning to her.

"It was very busy, always, and everyone hurried. Before my father left, it was wonderful. We lived outside the city, on my grandparent's rancho. But when he left, I lived with Valentina, in the heart of town. I missed the outdoors. Still, it was all right. Even outside of the city, we'd come in often enough so that I'd never known anything else to compare it with." Magdalena told him, speaking slowly.

Alejandro nodded. "Si. You left us at too young an age to have memories of here. But you and Diego have met before, though neither will remember."

"Oh?" Magdalena asked. Diego also turned his attention to his father.

"At the funeral," Francisco added, and Alejandro nodded.

"And when you were just about to leave Los Angeles," Alejandro continued. "I believe Diego could not understand why Magdalena didn't speak, like Rosarita and Moneta did."

"He was quite entranced with her, and she with him, I believe." Francisco chuckled. "He kept patting her hair, and even kissed her forehead as you left."

Diego was flushing now. "I believe we should be going if I'm taking Magdalena all around the pueblo." He said, standing. "Are you ladies ready to go?"

"Just let us freshen up a bit." Inez said hastily.

* * *

When Inez had done her freshening up, they walked back to the sala, where Diego waited with Francisco and Alejandro. He had taken this opportunity to fetch a hat and gloves. He looked even more handsome now, Magdalena reflected, as he took her arm to lead her through the patio to the waiting carriage. Inez was walking hastily in front of them, but Alejandro and Francisco had stayed in the sala. He gave Inez his hand to help her up but when he turned to Magdalena a devilish light was in his eyes. Grasping her waist firmly with his hands he swung her up into the front seat of the carriage, letting her move over so he could get in. Inez looked distressed at this turn of events. "I believe Magdalena should sit with me—" she began.

Diego shook his head. "I am planning on picking up a friend of mine. He shall sit in the back."

"Ah—" Inez said, but Diego started the carriage and her protest died. She kept her eyes squarely on them, however, talking loudly to keep them from having a private conversation. Her voice grew ever louder every time Diego tried to move closer or moved his arm towards Magdalena.

* * *

Indeed it was pleasant enough and they still sat close together. It was a wonderful feeling to have Diego's muscular leg pressed against her. As they rode, over Inez's inane chatter, Diego pointed out places of interest, such as the mission church and the more notable haciendas.

"That is the Barbarossa hacienda." Diego said, pointing with the whip handle. "Franco Barbarossa is a self-made man. He started out with nothing, a little mud hut and some public land, and now look!" It was indeed a grand rancho. "He sold almost as many hides as my father last year."

"What a wonderful achievement," Magdalena said. "How long did it take for him to get this far?"

"About ten years, I believe." Diego said. "I guess I am not quite certain."

They reached the pueblo then. Diego halted the carriage in front of the cuartel.

"I'll just be moment," he said, his hazel eyes meeting her gaze quickly before he jumped down. Magdalena turned in her seat to watch him as he walked. For a man who was said to no longer have interest in physical activities, he was very fit, with broad shoulders, narrow hips and wonderfully long legs. She her gaze travel up and down his body before Inez noticed what she was doing and reached forward to jab her in the ribs with her fan.

"Don't be indecent." She hissed.

The fat sergeant from earlier was approaching Diego, and they talked a bit before Diego turned the sergeant's gaze to them. When the sergeant looked upon her, he did not seem to recognize her as the sullen woman he had met earlier.  
She nodded to him and his eyes grew big. He seemed to start to say something but Diego interrupted him. The sergeant's gaze returned to the carriage, now alighting on Inez. Her eyes widened to have the men's gazes on her and she quickly adjusted her shawl and smiled at the two. The sergeant turned to leave but Diego said something and both started to the carriage.

"Dona Inez, this is Sergeant Garcia, Commandante of the pueblo, a gallant soldier, and for some time, your admirer." Diego said gallantly. Magdalena didn't miss the surprised look Garcia shot Diego at his last words. She grinned brightly just as Diego turned his head. Their gazes met, and caught; he had started to turn back to Garcia and Inez but didn't seem to be able to, and the smile faded from his face as he looked at her. Because of that, she turned her attention back to the back seat, letting the smile fade from her face also. Out of the corner of her eyes she noticed a small man come up behind the carriage and start signaling to Diego. Diego also noticed him. "Excuse me," he said, walking to meet him.

"That is Don Diego's mozo. He is deaf and dumb but very loyal," Garcia explained, following Magdalena's gaze.

"It must be so hard to be a soldier. All that marching and sleepless nights. How do you stand it?" Inez bubbled.

"Well, I—" he stumbled.

"You must be a great man to live your life in the service of the King. You must truly live the life of sacrifice." Inez continued.

"It is true, Dona Inez, a soldier's life is one of sacrifice," Garcia began, untangling his tongue. "Your aunt is a very understanding woman, Senorita Montes."

Inez frowned to see Garcia looking at Magdalena and quickly spoke up. "Did you know Diego saw a man murdered today, right in de pueblo?" Inez said.

Garcia sighed. "These are bad times."

Diego had returned and tapped Garcia's shoulder. "Get in, Sergeant." He said as he did so, rejoining Magdalena in the carriage. She moved over, just a bit, smiling at Diego as he settled in beside her. She didn't move too far; she still wanted to feel him against her. And feel him she did, for Garcia stepped on, tipping the whole carriage. She fell with a jolt into Diego's lap. His hands shot out to steady her; one hand going to her hip, the other to her arm. Her whole body burned at his touch. No man had ever touched her so…intimately. Though people said she was loose, all she truly done was dance more heartily than she should have with some vaqueros of questionable character and gone riding with those same men. But no man had ever touched her thusly, his hand on her hip and thigh. Even through her layers of skirt and petticoat she felt his hand there as he helped her straighten.

* * *

She readjusted her shawl, feeling Diego's gaze on her. He quipped about Garcia's presence carrying weight and started the carriage, and they were off with a bit of a jerk. On an impulse, and seeing that Inez was rather occupied with Garcia, she slipped her arm through Diego's, keeping her hand firmly on his forearm. Mostly Diego had to concentrate on his driving but he would slide his gaze over to her for brief periods while they drove. Inez and Garcia kept up a steady conversation—with Inez talking quickly, Garcia agreeing, and occasionally interrupting her to tell of some exploit he'd been part of in his soldier's life.

They drove all over Los Angeles, it seemed, seeing everything from the meanest peon's hut to the grandest haciendas. None were as impressive as the de la Vega rancho, but the Esperon and the Torres haciendas came close. Magdalena spotted several men and women on their ride, and Diego named them as Margarita—"She will be at the fiesta tomorrow."

Moneta—"Her father might still be away, so she probably won't come."

Isabella—"She definitely will." All the women had been accompanied by either a servant or a handsome caballero and duena. Upon seeing their escorts, Magdalena always tightened her hand on Diego's arm, smiled wider, and let pride flow through her: Diego was the handsomest of the lot.

* * *

They stopped briefly at Inez's little orange grove. Inez had exclaimed upon spying it, "It has been so long! May I get out, to see how they are doing? I wish to make sure they were well cared for!"

Diego nodded and quickly got out to go and help her down. She didn't wait for him, though, scrambling down by herself. Magdalena watched in wonder. Inez was like a whole new person. She walked among the orange trees quickly, sometimes pausing to handle an orange briefly, inspecting it. She came back bearing two. "These were the best looking. Jaime has taken excellent care with my oranges!"

She handed one to Magdalena and started to peel the other herself, not getting back into the carriage. Diego was still standing, waiting for when Inez would wish to get back in. He was on Magdalena's side of the carriage, leaning against it, and if she wished she could have leaned an arm down to run her fingers through his hair. She took off her gloves to peel the orange, quickly and efficiently. Oranges had been Valentina's only weakness. She split it in two and handed one half down to Diego. "Inez is known for her wonderful oranges." She told him.

He grinned up at her. "I know." He took the half and split it into sections, eating it quickly. Magdalena did the same, watching as Inez handed the orange section by section to Garcia. She kept half for herself, and ate it delightedly. "I missed my oranges. They had some on the ship and in Mexico City but they were not as good as mine." Her face flushed. "I did not mean it like that. It is just that oranges are the one thing I can truly take pride in."

"You have right to take pride in them. They are excellent." Diego assured her. Inez smiled shyly. "We should be going on now." She let Diego help her back up. Magdalena wiped her fingers on her handkerchief and pulled her gloves back on.

Diego climbed back into the carriage. "Where are we going now, Don Diego?" Garcia asked.

"I have a place in mind," Diego said with a shrug, and that was all he would say.

* * *

At what seemed their last stop, Diego halted the carriage. He pointed his gloved hand to the beautiful lake surrounded by trees they had come to.

"One of our better sights," he announced, jumping down from the carriage. Probably because Inez had been joined by Garcia and Diego didn't want to set tongues wagging, he didn't take her by the waist again; he hooked his hands under her arms and she placed her hands on his shoulders for leverage as he lifted her down. Garcia asked why they were stopping. In a moment that made the breath catch in her throat, Diego focused his gaze completely on her, letting it travel up and down her body. "To admire the view." He said, and it was blatantly obvious he wasn't talking about the lake. Inez frowned but Garcia didn't catch on.

* * *

Magdalena walked around the carriage and down a slight hill to the edge of the water. There was a tree there, which she leaned against when she spied Diego striding toward her.

"I used to swim here when I was a child. It seems like such a long time ago." He said as he reached her, glancing toward the sunlit and sparkling water.

"I would love to come out here sometime to swim." she said back, and Diego's eyes widened. It was his fault for bringing up swimming! "Oh, but I'm afraid that would shock my father very much! And Inez, oh! Does it shock you?" She asked him, leaning in closer to him.

He seemed unable to speak for a moment, and he reached to lean an arm on the tree next to her, so that he was leaning over her. "Well, let us say that I am not entirely…unmoved…by the idea."

His eyes flashed darker and she laughed gratefully at his words. "What would entirely move you, then?" Her tone of voice seemed to suggest she was daring him.

"If I were with you as you swam." The words slipped from his mouth, seeming to surprise both of them. Diego's face flushed, just a bit, and Magdalena could feel the heat spread over her face and down her neck. "I've never met someone like you." Diego said softly, letting the hand on the tree move closer to her arm. "You seem so bold, yet blush so easily."

Magdalena shrugged. "It's funny how things happen and how people can change." _An example for you, Diego,_ she thought as she continued. "You were very determined not to like me when we met today."

Surprise showed in his gaze. "Oh?"

She didn't want to tell him, so she merely tipped her head. "Mmhmm."

He tried again. "And how do you know?"

"Mmm." She paused. If she said her next words she felt fairly certain she knew what he would then do. "How do you feel now?" She said them anyway. His eyes jerked to hers.

"Determinations…change too." He said, his voice deepening. His voice still held playful tone but his eyes flashed like fire as he leaned down to kiss her. Their lips had barely touched, his mustache had barely brushed her upper lip, and she could feel their breaths intermingle, time slowing down to the barest caress of his lips against hers…and:

"Don Diego!" Came Garcia's bellow. Diego jerked up in surprise, staring toward the carriage. His right hand had come up to grasp her shoulder when he had kissed her and now it clenched her arm for a moment as he relinquished hold on her; hold on the moment.

* * *

They started back to the carriage, and his arm slipped around her waist for the moment they were out of sight of the carriage. She shivered to feel it there and regretted its loss when they crested the hill and he pulled it away again as they came back in sight of Inez and Garcia. Diego slowed his pace. Glancing at him she saw a scowl on his face. He had not liked their interruption. That knowledge caused her to smile to widen considerably.

"Dona Inez thinks we should be getting back," Garcia said, somewhat apologetically.

"Commandante Garcia is hungry. You know how it is with these men of action—a big man, a big appetite." Magdalena was surprised to hear such words spoken in that sort of tone by her aunt. She wasn't actually falling for the Sergeant, was she? Garcia looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Not such a big appetite, I just appreciate good food."

Diego raised his eyebrows and spoke quickly, his tone sharp. She had the feeling he was getting back at Garcia for interrupting them. "The sergeant's appreciation is boundless." He turned back to her and they both laughed together, gazing at each other.

When Garcia spoke Diego dragged his gaze from Magdalena to Garcia. "Now you seem happy, Senorita Montes." Garcia said cheerfully. "But this morning, when you arrived on the coach from San Pedro, I did not think you liked our little pueblo."

Diego stiffened at her side. Magdalena felt confused at his sudden reticence and her smile also faded, more so remembering how sullen she had been with the sergeant. She hoped Garcia didn't mention that, just as Diego spoke.

"Oh, then you came on yesterday's boat?" He asked, a strange, wary tone creeping into his voice. She nodded slightly.

"Did you have a nice trip?" What had gotten into him? He was acting so…different. His tone seemed almost accusing.

Fear crept into her heart when she remembered his words earlier. _"A man was murdered in broad daylight…I'd never seen him before."_

"It was a long one," she said.

"I had an encounter with a fellow passenger of yours." He said.

She was struck with a sudden, new fear. Someone couldn't have gone to Los Angeles not in the coach, could they have? The Verdugos were wealthy enough for a private coach. "A fellow passenger?" Her voice now matched his in wariness.

"A small, dark man, with a rather French looking mustache." He indicated his own upper lip as he spoke.

"Oh, Senor Mendoza!" Magdalena spoke with relief, thankful it hadn't been the Verdugos.

"Yes, he's the one. He's dead."

 _No, it couldn't be!_ "Dead?"

"Shot with an arrow." He then turned to Garcia to speak but Magdalena didn't listen as she considered.

Arrows had feathers. Galindo was said to quite a sharp man, with many personal henchmen. And Mendoza, even when he had rebuked her, had been apologetic. She had still held out hope he would relent and help her. _Too late now_.

Diego was speaking; his voice sounded like it was coming from a long tunnel. "Oh, forgive me, Senorita, I did not know he was a friend of yours."

Her head felt muddled and she struggled to find words to piece together. "Oh, I barely knew him. On shipboard you meet everyone." She managed. "It's late, I think we better be getting home." Her throat hurt thinking of Mendoza. "Thank you, Diego, for a very instructive tour." She said, feeling her throat try to close up again. It was another struggle to get the words out. She felt much as she had that morning with Garcia. This time she had no excuse for tears, though.

Diego barely met her gaze. His smile looked pained. It was only out of courtesy she listened to his words.  
"It has been most instructive for me, too." He led her back around the carriage and gave her his hand to help her up. She didn't even register the change from earlier. Her thoughts swirled on the way home, as she thought of the feather.

* * *

Everyone was silent on the way back, she realized with a jerk, coming back to herself as they reached the cuartel and dropped Garcia there. They went on to the Montes hacienda. Diego helped Inez out first, and she hurried through the gate. He turned to Magdalena then, and she realized he was waiting for her. _Of course, stupid!_ She rebuked herself, and stood in a hurry, quite unintentionally tripping and falling into Diego's arms. His arms clamped around her in reflex as they both caught their breath. Her feet dangled over the ground, emphasizing their height difference. She felt how hard Diego's chest was beneath hers and felt a blush coming on as he released her, again wondering why a supposedly inactive man would have such a muscled body.

"I am sorry, Diego, I did not mean to fall." She said as her feet touched the ground.

"No matter," he said, but some of the coldness melted from his gaze as he looked down at her. "Adios, Magdalena." He jumped nimbly back to his seat, saluted her and drove away. She found herself looking after him before she realized what she was doing and dashed inside the hacienda.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in one fell swoop, the word count doubled.


	5. It's Another Beautiful Day

Part Five: _"It's another beautiful day..."_

* * *

Magdalena woke early the next day, feeling surprisingly well rested. It had been a struggle to fall asleep last night, but once she had, it had been a deep, dreamless, refreshing sleep. She cast her worries about the feather far from her mind as she dressed in a strawberry colored day dress and hurried down for breakfast.

* * *

The morning was spent talking with her father, learning more details about his illness. "You were bedridden a whole year?" She asked him in angry disbelief.

"Si. I have been very badly off in recent times. Once in Los Angeles, I felt better for a time, but had a relapse eighteen months ago. I remained bedridden for thirteen months. In the past five, I have slowly but steadily recovered. I feel well, daughter. There is no fear for me currently."

"But if you have presumably been on your deathbed for a year—father, why didn't you send for me before now?" She asked him desperately.

"Your life was better in Mexico City. I wanted you to be raised with the culture and education and position a place like Los Angeles cannot give you."

 _Certainly Mexico City educated me,_ she thought bitterly, pacing, _in things even you don't know of._

Memories rushed into her mind: _Alenez yelling at her, the girls turning away, letting a man dance with her scandalously, letting him lead her out on a balcony, pulling away from his searching lips and receiving a hard slap. Pilar's face as she'd seen the bruise Magdalena had sported for a week, and Valentina refusing to let her cover it up. And again, Alenez, his hands clamped over hers as he dragged her to the window to watch as a messenger of the Eagle was hung_.

"This it was will happen if you were discovered as an Eagle messenger."

* * *

After that first encounter he'd never shown softness again. The way the Eagle kept his henchman divided into three things: defaming the agent so no one else would associate with them, the habitual death threats, and the threat of exposure. And for Magdalena there was also another: if she didn't stay, Alenez would find her. Find her and more.

She shuddered at the memory of his breath hot on her neck, his hand clamped around her wrist like a vise as he dragged her behind him. If that messenger hadn't blundered in then…

In that moment, fear overcame her. If things were to be believed, Galindo was like Alenez, or worse. She couldn't risk altering the feather. She went up to her room and took the feather from the desk drawer she had placed it in. She rooted around for her fan, and sewed the feather to it in such a way that there was no fear of it slipping out, but it could still be pulled from the fan with a sharp jerk. Galindo would be at tonight's fiesta, of that she was sure.

* * *

That afternoon, to her surprise, Diego came riding over, and asked her to go on a ride with him. "It's another beautiful day," he said, his gaze entreating her. "Besides, I believe I am correct to say Inez will not accompany us if we go on horseback." He was wearing a deep brown suit, with a black shirt underneath, and black riding gloves. He looked magnificent.

A surprised laugh bubbled from Magdalena. Since her decision, she had forced herself to cast out all negativity and was determined to enjoy herself until the moment she had to give Galindo the feather.

"Just let me change to a riding outfit," she told him and dashed up to her room. She had a lovely, deep purple riding outfit, never worn before. She dressed quickly, with Renata's help, and looked in the mirror before she went back down. _It certainly emphasizes my waist,_ she thought, putting her hands at her waist and turning a bit to the side. She shook her head at her foolishness, let Renata put her hair up—just tying it up high with a ribbon—and placed a hat on her head.

* * *

She fairly flew down the stairs back to Diego. He seemed surprised to see her back so soon. "Many women I know would take much more time to change." He said admiringly, studying how she looked in her riding outfit. On an impulse, she twirled and he laughed out loud. His eyes gleamed as he took her arm and they walked to the horses. He'd had one saddled for her; the groom was only now leading her out. She was a lovely, lively Palomino, dubbed Bailarin.

Diego sent the groom away with the wave of his hand and turned to her, extending the same hand to help her up. She placed her hand in his, and he cupped her elbow to give her the needed boost up to her horse.

* * *

Once she was situated, Diego mounted his own horse, a pretty Arabian. "Her name is Torcedor." Diego announced, patting her neck. "Come along," He then said. They rode with a slow pace at first, admiring the view and not speaking much. And then Diego pointed his gloved hand to a spot in the distance.

"Care for a race?" He asked, mischief in his voice.

She was away before he finished speaking, and they rode neck and neck the whole way, until—"We're where we went yesterday!" Magdalena exclaimed, pulling on the reins and slipping from her horse.

"Si," Diego said simply, and he also dismounted. They ambled next to each other, leading their horses around the lake.

"Tell me more about you, Magdalena." Diego requested. Magdalena turned to him, letting her gaze meet his. "What do you wish to know?"

"Oh, I don't know. The usual things people mention. Their closest friends, the books they read, what they are best at doing."

Magdalena dipped her head. "I do not really have any close friends. I do not read very much either. My father's cousin Valentina was who I stayed with while in Mexico City. She did not allow me to read any books. She said it ruined ladies minds. Well, I didn't believe her words, but she kept the library locked, and my desire to read was not strong enough to induce me to steal the key."

Diego nodded. "Then what are you best at doing?"

"I rode greatly when I was younger, before my father came back here. I had a little Palomino I called Hermoso. He was a darling horse. But then I went to stay with Valentina and she had no stables, so father sold Hermoso before he went. I was heartbroken. In the past years, when suitors have started to come calling, I have ridden with them. We'd leave the grooms far behind us as we raced, in the wind, going faster, and faster until the horses tired and then—"

"And then?" Diego asked.

 _And then they would want more, things that I would not give, but they expected just the same._ "Besides those rides, and they were few, because of Valentina, I have not ridden in eight years. I was eleven when my father sold Hermoso."

"You are younger than I thought," he commented. "But what have you done since?"

She shrugged. "I have sewn, one of the only things that Valentina approved of. I got quite skillful at mending my own clothes, for Valentina insisted upon me not bothering her maid with my sewing. She had quite a small household, just a cook and manservant and her own maid. I only recently gained my own maid, Renata. She came to us very highly recommended and Valentina couldn't resist. Besides sewing I painted, another thing of which Valentina approved, and I was actually rather good. But then Valentina decided that paints were too expensive and banned the activity. She was a very thrifty woman. It did not matter to her that my father took care of me financially, if something wasn't needed, it wouldn't be bought. I suppose I admire that about her, for I have seen some very frivolous senoritas who spend all their money and time on acquiring new wardrobes. I am glad that she drummed into me the foolishness of such enterprises. It did wear off on me, and if I do not need a gown, I do not buy it."

Diego laughed. "You are correct, many women would not agree with that philosophy."

"But what about you? Who were your friends growing up? What books do you read? What are you best at?"

He slowed even more, then completely stopped. "What am I best at? I wonder." He continued walking.

"Growing up, there was Rosarita Cortez, Moneta Esperon and Ricardo del Amo. Rosarita's family moved to Monterey when we were both ten. Moneta did not spend as much time with me after that. She felt awkward being alone with me, I suppose. Ricardo del Amo I only knew one summer. He had come down from San Francisco to visit his uncle. Ricardo was a menace. He played horrible pranks, meant to be lighthearted and, indeed, most were silly things, just throwing snakes at senoritas, and surprising people by covering his face with mud and jumping out at them, but there was one prank that was actually harmful. He managed to convince me that I should drug Sergeant Garcia's wine. He was a Private, then, and not quite as, uh, stout. Anyway, I put the powder into the cup and watched him drink it. He was out in a second. And he wouldn't wake up, no matter how I shook him." Diego shook his head, remembering. "Well, he did eventually wake, but I was scared to death. He was almost court-martialed for it. The commandante was furious, and ready to sentence him to the firing squad even, until I spoke up. Dios, I was happy when Ricardo returned to San Francisco. He was a horrible boy."

Magdalena was laughing. "The poor sergeant! What commandante was that? Not the Monastario I heard mentioned?"

"No, no. He was only recently the commandante. This was a Capitan Cabreo. He was not a bad commandante, but he could be very harsh, especially on the soldiers in his command. He was very strict about the rules."

"Ah. But we still have questions left." She turned to him, eyes twinkling. "What books do you read?"

"Books of Philosophy, Theology, History and most of all, poetry. I try to write my own."

"Is it any good?"

"No, not usually." Diego bit his lip. "I play the guitar. I am fairly good at it, I think. And, oh, I have thought of lyrics for your song."

She turned to him in delight. "Have you really?"

"Si. I wrote them last night. But I cannot sing them to you for I have no guitar." Diego had a smile on his face as he looked down at her.

"You do not need a guitar to sing." She protested.

But he only shook his head. "I do need the guitar."

She shrugged. "Very well."

They both grew silent. Magdalena was wondering why he'd brought her here again after how strange their moods had been yesterday when they'd departed from it.

 _No matter_ , she thought, and turned to him. "Why did you bring me here again?"

"Oh. Well, you seemed to like it so much." He switched the lead to his other hand. "And it is one of my favorite places in Los Angeles." He paused and stepped closer.

"And besides those two excellent reasons, I believe we have some unfinished business."His voice was soft as he moved closer to her. She didn't dare move a muscle as he got nearer and nearer to her. She shifted to lean against Bailarin; he placed his hands on opposite sides of her again, boxing her in.

"Shall we try again?" He whispered, just a breath away. She nodded, unable to speak. He leaned down, closer, and closer…

A group of rowdy vaqueros suddenly burst into the clearing, startling the horses. Magdalena stumbled backwards as Bailarin moved nervously behind her. Diego grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him, quickly releasing her to grab the reins of Bailarin and Torcedor. He waited for the group to leave before turning back to her. She felt the keen sting of disappointment when he extended his hands to help her up. The moment was broken. They mounted and rode back home, silence again reigning over them.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took special pleasure in writing this chapter. I adore the idea that Magdalena and Diego shared more than the episode actually showed. 
> 
> Magdalena's riding outfit looks like Anna Maria's red riding outfit, my second favorite outfit in the show, (the first being Raquel's red dress) except Magdalena's is, of course, purple, a blue-violet purple. 
> 
> And Torcedor means twister. I wasn't feeling very original that day.


	6. Broken Connections

 

* * *

Part Six: Broken Connections

Magdalena wore the red dress. As Renata pinned her mantilla on, she stepped over to the mirror, smoothing her hands over her skirt. _I look nice,_ she thought. _My dress is not as fancy as Senorita Verdugo's, but I think it flatters more than hers did._

She walked over to the desk and took her fan. She fastened it to the loop on the end of her sleeve and went down the stairs. Her father waited, and his face glowed with pride at the sight of her. "Your mother had a dress in that same color." He said softly. "You look just like her right now."

Magdalena felt warmth spread through her. "Diego will not be able to tear his eyes from you!" Inez exclaimed as she came down behind Magdalena. She had stayed with them that day, as her hacienda was not ready yet. Inez wore a luscious purple gown. Magdalena was surprised to see her aunt in such finery.

"Inez, you also look beautiful!" Magdalena told her, and Francisco agreed.

"Will I really have to honor of escorting two beautiful women?"

Inez giggled. "No, for Commandante Garcia is escorting me! He should be here soon. I told him to fetch me here, but take me to my own home at the end of the evening."

A carriage sounded outside. "And there he is!" Inez giggled. "Buenos noches!"

* * *

There was a full moon, just starting to rise as Magdalena and her father reached the de la Vega hacienda. There were already many guests there when they arrived. Diego and Alejandro stood greeting the guests individually as they arrived.

Diego's eyes seemed to blaze at the sight of her. Heat gathered inside her at his intense gaze. Alejandro and her father spoke briefly before they walked off so the two could welcome the rest of their guests. Soon the gate was closed and everyone went into dinner. It was a loud, jovial affair. As they ate, the guests mingled, switching tables frequently to speak with each other. Everyone was friendly, and eager to meet her.

Margarita was very friendly, speaking with great length on the subject of Los Angeles.

"It may be a small pueblo, but we have many accomplishments. And besides, what other pueblo can boast of Zorro?"

Isabella was kind, but rather preoccupied with her escort, a Don Isidoro. "You must come to visit me, Magdalena. I would be delighted to speak with you longer."

* * *

There was chicken, and rice, and gravy for the main course. Magdalena greatly enjoyed the meal; everything was perfectly done. She ate lightly, though, remembering the dancing yet to come and not wanting to be too full to dance comfortably.

Soon everyone was back out on the patio, and the musicians that had played a slow tune during the meal now prepared to strike up a livelier one. Magdalena spied many caballeros making their way towards her. She was glad to see Diego striding across the room to her side, reaching her side only moments before the others, placing his hand on her waist, lightly, guiding her onto the floor. Her attention was only on him and the other men seemed to realize it.

The musicians started to play. Diego placed his hands on her upper arms and she placed her on his and they danced a quick, spinning dance. It was over quickly and another man stepped forward to claim the next dance. She danced seven more dances, all with different partners whose dancing skills varied greatly. One would have been fit for Madrid; another made her wish she had worn riding boots instead of the delicate slippers that encased her feet. The others had mediocre skill, enough to not trample her feet, but none with particular grace. They were all rather nondescript, and the names she only remembered until Diego stepped forward to claim her for one of the last dances of the evening.

At the sight of him parting the crowded dance floor to get to her, all intelligence seemed to flee from her, and all she could think of was what moves the next dance required, and how Diego seemed to be shooting fire through her with just one look.

The dance started slower than the first: all the couples danced slowly in a circle, then separating into partners and the men clapped their hands, turning in a slow circle, clapping their hands in time to the music, before facing the women again. Diego's eyes flared each time they met hers, sending odd feelings through her, and making her short of breath. After that, the woman spun around the men, skirts flaring. The couples then weaved back and forth, twisting their torsos so that their gazes stayed locked on each other. Then Diego offered his arm and they danced a few steps like that, then Magdalena again spun around him, feeling her skirts flare. They then repeated the weaving step, gazes locked firmly on each other.

The music ended. Magdalena curtsied deeply, and Diego took hold of her hand to raise her up, bringing it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles slowly, his lips parted, and his breath warm on her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment at the look in his eyes. She felt a deep ache spring up in her, one that longed for Diego. His lips left her hands but their gaze held. She felt as though she were in a trance, but that feeling was quickly broken at the sound of her father's voice.

"Magdalena!"

She startled and broke Diego's gaze, turning to face her father, keeping her hand in Diego's as long as possible before he let it slip from his grasp. Francisco and Alejanrdo strode up to them.

* * *

"His Excellency the King's Magistrate wishes to meet you." Her father said, gesturing to where he stood waiting. A chill swept over her. She had honestly forgotten him. She slipped her fan into her hand as Francisco spoke. She turned to look at Galindo. He was an older, silver haired man in a plain brown suit.  
Her chest hurt. "Excuse me," she tried to make her voice sound natural but it was strained, and came out stiffly. Diego nodded in farewell, bowing slightly to her. She turned to walk to Galindo's side, trailed by her father.

"Your Excellency, my daughter Magdalena Adelita. Magdalena, this is Don Carlos Galindo, the King's Magistrate."

She curtsied and he bowed slightly to her. "It is an honor to meet you," Galindo said, his voice smooth as he laid a perfunctory kiss on her hand.

"The honor is definitely mine, your Excellency," she said. One of her father's friends called to him and he drifted away. Magdalena's thoughts shouted after him, _don't leave me with him!_

"You have something for me?" Galindo muttered.

Don Diego's manservant—she believed his name to be Bernardo—was serving drinks nearby. She tipped her head to indicate his presence.

"He is only a deaf-mute; he can hear nothing."

Before she could stop herself, as she knew the answer, she blurted out, "Why did you kill Senor Mendoza?"

"He was sent by the Viceroy to spy on you." Galindo snapped.

"They know!" She exclaimed. She was playing the part of the ignorant, and was glad to see he didn't see through her act.

He shook his head. "Not yet; they only suspect."

"Oh, but then to kill him without—" Bernardo approached. Galindo waved him away. "Careful. We are not playing with children. Now do what you were sent to do."

Heart aching, she yanked the feather from her fan and handed it to him. He tucked it into his jacket quickly. "Buenos noches, Senorita." He muttered and slipped away.

* * *

Her father rejoined her but Magdalena's attention had turned to Diego as he spoke with Inez and Garcia. He walked right past her without saying a word. She turned to watch Galindo's path. Bernardo had blocked his path; he was trying to get him to take one of the wine glasses he offered. Diego came then, bumping into Galindo, and in one smooth motion, he had taken the feather from his pocket. Magdalena's heart jumped in her throat, thumping crazily. She felt as though it would jump clear out of her chest. _Diego had taken the feather._ He then strode to the sala as Garcia approached Galindo.

* * *

"Magdalena!" Came her father's voice.

She turned her attention back to him. A tall caballero stood by him. "This is Juan Fernando de la Cruz."

He bowed deeply. Magdalena curtsied to him, feeling a flush rise on her cheeks when his attention turned to her bosom. _What an ill mannered man!_

"It is an honor to meet you, Senorita Montes. You are more beautiful than rumors say." He said, his voice thick.

She felt a chill rise up. "Gracias," she said, as graciously as possible under the circumstances, as his gaze remained firmly on her chest.

"Dance the final dance with me, Magdalena." He said.

"Oh, I am tired—"

"Go on, Magdalena. Make fun when you can." Francisco said. Her gaze jerked to his. He lowered his voice and spoke near her ear.

"Alejandro is now planning to ask Diego whether we should announce the engagement tonight."

She looked desperately around and saw Diego bump once more into Galindo, returning the feather. It distracted her enough so that she only realized Juan had dragged her to the floor once they were there. It was a light, bobbing dance. You stepped quickly, turning in a circle, your hands meeting when occasionally. Juan's gaze still remained on her chest, occasionally darting to her hips. She felt disgust spread through her at his manners, and let her attention turn to the feather.

* * *

 _What did it mean? What had Diego done to the feather? Had he taken Mendoza's job and altered it somehow? Was he a spy, then, told only to act on Mendoza's death_? Hope rose in her heart. If he was a spy, maybe he could assist her.

* * *

Her attention was jerked back to the dance at the touch of Juan's hand on her waist. This was not part of the steps. She jerked away from his touch but he moved closer again. At this part in the steps, the man was supposed to stand behind the woman, she'd spread her arms wide and he'd take her hands. She had spread her arms but his hands were going to her waist, and higher. She jerked sharply away from him, into someone else, whose hands on her waist did not bother her. Diego was standing behind her, pulling her tightly against him, and Juan scowled to see him there.

"I'll just cut in," Diego said smoothly. His voice sounded dangerous and cold. Juan nodded and hurried away.

Diego spun her away from him. She expected him to flirt, but his voice and gaze were as cold as when he had spoken with Juan. The dance ended soon, and Diego didn't take her hand this time.

"The evening is ending, senorita. Let me take you to your carriage." _Senorita. Not Magdalena any more. Senorita._ Magdalena registered the loss and wondered at it.

Indeed, the musicians were gathering up their instruments, guests were streaming to the gate, _Adios_ ringing in the air. He took her arm in his but she pulled away, feeling his anger and not liking it.

Did he blame her for Juan's behavior? Or did he know where Galindo had received the feather? At any rate, she no longer felt the desire to speak with him of it.

They were separated suddenly: Diego had stopped to speak with someone and she had gone on. Galindo appeared out of nowhere.

"Senorita Montes, you should take this back." He snapped, shoving the feather into her hand. She took it with surprise, automatically placing it back into her fan. "Buenos noches." He said smoothly and dashed away.

She looked down at the feather again residing in her fan and realized it had definitely been cut. Diego must have done it. Galindo wouldn't have changed the order. But she didn't recognize the cut. A chill spread through her. Galindo hadn't even given her more instructions with the feather. _What did that mean?_

Diego was at her side again, and his gaze remained cold. It barely registered; her thoughts remained on Galindo. "Your father waits in the carriage," he said, offering his arm. She had another urge to mention the feather but he remained sullen, and they reached the gate too soon.

She felt tired. Her father leaned a hand down and she took it as she stepped up. Bernardo cupped her elbow, adding to her balance.

"Good night, Diego," she said. Her voice showed the strain the evening had taken on her. It sounded stiff again. She settled into her seat, just wanting to go home and cry herself to sleep.

"Diego, you must come and visit us as often as you like!" Her father was saying.

"You'll be surprised, senor, how soon you'll be seeing me." Diego's tone was jovial, but there seemed to be a mocking undertone.

Magdalena just couldn't summon feeling to match that knowledge.

* * *

They drove away. Her father tried, at first, to speak of the evening but when she told him she felt too tired to talk then silence came over the carriage.

She leaned against the seat and wished the carriage didn't jounce so. Her father suddenly turned in his seat.

"We are being followed!" He said and immediately quickened the horses pace. She reenergized quickly, panic quickening her heartbeat.

This had something to do with the feather, of that she was certain. Maybe the Viceroy's distrust of her had extended to telling the spies to alter the feather to kill her. Had Diego done this? Had he knowingly signed her death warrant?

The rider behind them had almost reached the carriage when he raised a gun and took aim. Magdalena heard the crack and expected death. But no. Her father was crumpling to the floor of the carriage. She tried to reach for him but his hands stayed clutching the reins. "Oh, give me the reins!" She said, and he finally relinquished hold.

She took them, and grabbed the whip, snapping it to urge the horses ever faster. The horses were going faster and faster and she was afraid she'd lose control of them. The road curved and she felt sick. They cleared the corner and her heartbeat returned to normal.

Then she felt the carriage jolt as someone jumped on the back. She chanced a glance and saw a glint of silver. He had a knife! She wasn't sure but she thought she heard a second horse join the first. The bandito was getting hold on the carriage and trying to stab her. With a desperate sob she leaned forward in her seat, almost standing, whipping the horses faster. Suddenly, there was a second jolt.

Someone had joined the bandito. She chanced another look. "Dios!" Came her gasp. The second one was dressed all in black. Alejandro's words came back to her. _His horse, as black as his clothes, is the fastest in the country_. It had to be Zorro. He was fighting the bandito for control of the knife, pushing him away from Magdalena. They were struggling back there, for hold on the carriage and for control of the knife. She turned in her seat, and saw that the bandito was on top. She tightened her grip on the whip handle, turning it in her hands, and lowered it fiercely onto his head, putting all her strength into the blow. He fell. She turned back to the horses, feeling as Zorro climbed into the carriage beside her. He was trying to stop the horses, climbing between them to calm them. They finally slowed, then stopped. Zorro jumped down from his perch, dashing to fetch her father.

* * *

He carefully pulled him from the carriage, carrying him towards the nearby forest area, and seating him on a stump. On shaking legs, Magdalena struggled down from the carriage and ran to them. "Will he be all right?" She begged Zorro, but he ignored her as he pulled her father's jacket off, to inspect his arm. He was squeezing it tight to staunch the blood flow. They both were leaning over her father. Zorro's hat was shading her father, restricting her view of his arm. He finally pulled away.

His voice was harsh as he spoke. "It's not serious, but he should see a doctor."

She also straightened, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding in a gasp of relief. "I don't know how to thank you." She told him, gazing up in wonder at his face.

"And after he's seen a doctor, take the first boat back." He continued. Magdalena lowered her gaze from his face as he spoke. _He also knew!_ Francisco's head also jerked up at these words.

"Your plot has already caused the death of one man, but at least you've shown me that it extends all the way to Mexico City." He turned to leave. Magdalena was looking away from Zorro's face, unable to bear his searing, angry gaze. With a jolt, she remembered a different gaze of the evening—the only other that had been this intense—Diego's. _No, it cannot be!_

"Senor Zorro, what does this mean?" Her father asked. Zorro halted, turning back to him, his tone derisive.

"Perhaps your daughter found life in the capital dull." He turned his searing gaze back to Magdalena and she met it in angry shock.

 _Madre di Dios!_ She had seen those eyes before!

"Did you get excitement?" Was his harsh query.

"Believe me; I did not know anyone would be hurt!" She cried passionately. It was true. She had only thought that the agents would be hurt, by discovery.

"Well, someone was hurt!" He snapped back, fast as a whip crack and just as painful. "And that feather you carry," he said, noticing it in her fan which she had unknowingly spread in her distress. "It nearly caused your own death!"

She turned again in shame, trying to bring herself to her own defense and failing. His words cut too deep; rang too true. "Oh, why didn't you let him kill me?" She begged, her voice bordering on a sob.

"I will be a long time explaining that to myself." He started to his horse. She got minor control over her emotions. _I need to say something!_ She thought desperately, turning to Zorro.

"Magdalena!" Her father said, placing his hand on her arm to still her.

"Oh, later, father!" She pleaded, and he withdrew his arm, hearing desperation in her voice.

She watched Zorro mount. What could she say?

"Adios, Magdalena!" He snapped, mock saluting her.

The way he said her name confirmed it. It was Diego. She felt sure of that. He was riding away, getting farther and farther. Magdalena could only shake her head, and tears started to pour down her face.

"Magdalena?" Her father asked cautiously.

She only shook her head. "We need to get you to a doctor," she said, making no move to slow the tears as she gathered up her father's jacket. "I will drive, but you must direct me." They made their way back to the carriage. Magdalena got in first, turning to help her father.

"What did Zorro mean?" He asked softly.

She inhaled deeply. _Where to begin?_ "There is currently a large group of conspirators who mean to take over California. Their leader is called the Eagle, and they communicate with eagle feathers, cut specially in code. I am a member of this, but I have not wished to be for a long time, father," she said as she drove, "I wanted to leave it the day after I joined but even then I knew too much and was at the same time too excited by it. I was torn—stay or leave. The choice was too easy—death was promised to all deserters. I stayed." She said simply. "I carried—I still do, for it was returned to me—a feather with me tonight that signaled my own death. I gave it to the Magistrado—"

"Carlos Galindo is involved in this?" Came her father's outraged gasp.

She nodded grimly. "Many of the Eagle's best officers hold positions in the government. I gave the feather to him tonight. He was the one who sent that bandito after us."

"But how did Senor Zorro know to come?"

Magdalena fell silent. Finally, she said simply, "I don't know. I will tell more tomorrow. Now I need to concentrate." The moon had gone behind a cloud and it was harder to see the road. She now slowed the horses pace; they hadn't been going that fast anyway. They finally reached the pueblo, and Magdalena directed the carriage to the doctor's house. Once there, Magdalena jumped from the carriage and ran to his door. She pounded hard, so as to be heard.

"Wait, wait, I'm coming!" A voice said, and the door soon creaked open.

"My father has been injured; a bandito waylaid us and shot him in the arm!" She said in a torrent of words. It seemed Doctor Avila hadn't been sleeping anyway, for he was still dressed.

He and Magdalena hurried to the carriage and brought her father inside. He was a while tending him, then the doctor returned to the small room where Magdalena waited.

"He'll be fine. It was only a flesh wound; the bullet was not in the arm. It went clean through. He is resting now, but soon you can go one home. There is no need for him to stay the night."

"Gracias." Magdalena said, sinking into a chair.

"You were waylaid by banditos, you say?" He inquired, also sitting.

"Si, no, just one. He had a gun and he shot my father. Then he jumped onto the back of the carriage and tried to stab me. Zorro came then—"

"Zorro?" He said, sounding surprised. "You must be important, Senorita Montes. He usually only rides to correct the most grievous wrongs."

Those words made her think—what if he was correcting a wrong? The feather again. Diego had to have cut it. Could it have been a mistake? Was he just a foolish as her? _Or are you simply an idioto, to carry things that have no meaning for you..._

Was _he_ simply rash, cutting messages that didn't hold an absolute meaning for him? Guessing at the results? Hoping for one, achieving another?

All these events since she'd left the de la Vega hacienda had been instigated by him. _And all the events since you met with Senor Alenez were instigated by you. Don't think you can pin this on him._

"I…maybe it was just by chance Zorro was there."

"Or maybe he too found himself entranced by you. I heard the de la Vega boy is head over heels for you. Will Zorro be competition?" Doctor Avila asked amiably, but there was a sharp glint in his eyes.

She blushed. "I—I don't know about that."

He laughed. "Ah, don't mind me. Here is Francisco now. You should take him over to the tavern and spend the night there. But wait, what happened to the bandito?" He asked.

"He fell from the carriage and impaled himself on his own knife." Francisco told him. His right arm was in a sling.

"Ah. Those who live by the sword shall die by the sword. Adios," he said, guiding them to the door.

"Buenos noches. And gracias." Magdalena said quickly.

"Senorita, you are obviously of some great worth if Zorro himself came to your aid." Doctor Avila said.

'Who knows Zorro's mind!" She said lightly. "Buenos noches."

"We should be getting on." Francisco said. "Again, gracias."

They left his house. "Well, let us go on to the tavern. Doctor Avila is right. It would take too long now to get back to the hacienda. You will drive, please."

Magdalena climbed on, and her father grasped her hand tightly as he got up.

* * *

The drove quietly to the tavern. Sergeant Garcia was there, and he looked very surprised to see them. "What has happened, Don Francisco?"

"A bandito shot me," Francisco said tersely. "Zorro saved us."

"Zorro? I did not realize you had so much importance, Senor and Senorita. Zorro does not ride lightly. What about the other bandito?"

"He fell and impaled himself on his own knife," Francisco said. "We just finished at Doctor Avila's. Please, we must get to bed. Wait, Sergeant, could you ride to our hacienda in the morning and ask the servants to bring some clothes for us. And bring Magdalena's maid. You could take my carriage."

"Si, of course, Don Francisco. Buenos noches," Sergeant Garcia said solemnly. He stepped aside to let them pass.

"May we have two rooms, just for the night?"

Senor Gonzales, who had been listening, took two keys. "Follow me." The innkeeper led them to two rooms adjacent to each other.

"I'm sorry to hear banditos attacked you. They get worse everyday. Good thing Zorro was there, eh?"

"Si. Buenos noches."

"Buenos noches…" Tio said, and went back down the stairs.

* * *

Magdalena said goodnight and went into the room, locking the door and sagging against it. This night had been too long.

The room was acceptable. A small table, with a bowl of water for washing placed on it, a bed and a chair. She pulled her mantilla from her head, and started to further undress, not lighting a candle for the moon was bright. She pulled pins from her hair and it tumbled down her back. She removed the jewelry, placing the pieces on the small table. She started on the dress; it was hard to undo alone and took her a bit to get the hang of it. Her arms were tired by the time she finished and was able to slip it off, laying it over the chair. Her laces proved to be impossible, though, and she resigned herself to sleeping in them, bending to remove her shoes and stockings.

Now she got into the bed, pulling the covers tight around her, and falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a rather bittersweet chapter to write, because it marks the end of the actual episode, and it was also difficult, because it took awhile to decide just how much Magdalena should figure out. So she did figure out some, but mostly I just had her asking questions. But isn't there something that says that knowledge is sometimes just asking the right questions? Or if you ask the right questions, you are already halfway to the answer? Whatever. (I can't remember if this was actually a saying, so don't mind me.)
> 
> Also, on something completely unrelated to Far Longer Than Forever (a title that I am slightly regretting) does anyone know what color eyes Ricardo has? (And if you don't watch the colorized version, never mind.) I'd say gray. Would that be correct, in your minds?


	7. Connections Remedied: Things Are Never What They Seem

Part Seven: Connections Remedied or Things are Never what they Seem

* * *

 

Diego paced in his moonlit room. "I was too harsh, I think," he told Bernardo. "No matter what I've heard, nothing she's done was truly the actions of an evil heart. Just a foolish, lonely girl. Zorro needs to see her again. Saddle Tornado."

* * *

Magdalena's sleep was plagued by disturbing dreams, not really nightmares, but unsettling just the same. She woke many times with a gasp, only to fall asleep again in moments. Now she had woken again, but this time she hadn't been dreaming

She sat straight up in bed and started—Zorro sat on her windowsill. Her eyes widening, she started to climb from the bed but then remembered she wore only her chemise and laces.

"Do not get up, Senorita. I only wish to apologize. I was too harsh on you. I…do not know your full past. Boredom could not have been the only thing that drove you to this."

She nodded slowly, unable to take her eyes from his face.

"All the same, you do need to take the first boat back. Galindo will try again." He continued.

"Si," she said, then regained her senses. "Why did—how did you know to ride after us?"

He tilted his head, considering. "Zorro knows many things."

"How does he know? Does he have an informer?"

He shrugged lightly, raising one shoulder. "I have eyes and ears everywhere."

"As does Don Diego?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" He asked, but his tone was wary now, not easy.

"I am finding many similarities between you and Don Diego."

"Oh?" _Like that response._

She hesitated, and then climbed from the bed, hastening to wrap her mantilla around herself like a shawl. He had looked away when she had climbed from the bed, and now avoided looking directly at her.

"Senor Zorro…I…thank you for saving me. And for apologizing, but you were not entirely wrong when you spoke of me." She walked a few steps closer and then halted.

"I just want to say I was bored but it was combined with loneliness. I did not have many friends…I met an agent at a fiesta. My dress was ruined—someone had spilled wine on it. He was very kind, I—I liked him and he spoke of a movement, one that would make California a great nation, a separate one and he spoke with such passion, such fervor. He truly believed in his cause! I was taken in. I accepted to carry a feather to a certain soldier the next day. It was exciting then, and I enjoyed my little illicit adventure. I felt involved in some great cause. But when I returned to him, he had changed. He wasn't kind. He was threatening. He told me straight away I had to continue helping, or death was promised. I realized my mistake but had no remedy. He threatened my life numerous times and I just got in deeper and deeper until I was completely trapped. Zorro, I—"

"Shh." He whispered, placing a finger to his lips. "I believe you." He paused a moment. "I must say farewell now, Senorita." He started to climb back over the windowsill.

She raced to his side and touched his shoulder. He turned surprised eyes to her. She felt shy, and lowered her gaze. "You will let Don Diego know, also?"

He was silent for a long moment. "Si." He said hoarsely. His gaze had fallen from her face and the knowledge brought a blush to her cheek. His eyes returned to rest on her lips. She slipped back, letting her hand fall from his shoulder. He caught it in his own and raised it to his lips.

"Adios, Magdalena." He placed a kiss in the center of her palm. She could only stare, wondering if any motion of any man had ever caught her heart fast and held it as tightly as this one did.

And Zorro was gone, riding into the night. She stood at the window a long while, just watching him, and remembering his words.

Yes, Diego and Zorro were one and the same. Two men could not have the exact same effect on her…and she on them.

* * *

Renata arrived early the next morning with clothes for them both. Tio helped her father dress, and Renata helped her out of her stays.

"You must have had an uncomfortable night." Renata said as she unfastened them.

"A bit, yes," Magdalena replied. "Let's forgo stays today?"

"That is what I thought you would say!" Renata replied.

Finally she was dressed in a dark blue gown, and made her way down the stairs to the tavern. Her father sat eating breakfast. She joined him. "Father, I do not wish to leave Los Angeles."

"But Zorro—"

"I do not care. Please, I wish to stay."

"But the Magistrado will send more men after you!"

"I do not think he will. I mean to give him an altered feather. If it means what I think it means…"

* * *

"It comes down to this. Will you trust the feather or not?" Magdalena spoke in her most commanding voice.

Galindo looked sour-faced; he had been livid when she had walked through the door, but now seemed doubtful. "You say last night's feather was tampered with?"

"Si. I only wish I had noticed in time."

He paced, looking chagrined. "I cannot confirm this."

"Why not? Simply contact Alenez. I got this order straight from him. He can tell you." _Please don't really contact him._

"I can't," Galindo complained in his most grating tone. "He was executed."

"What?" Magdalena was shocked. Her whole world stopped spinning in that instant.

"They found him out. The Eagle had meant to rescue him but he couldn't. Apparently his influence does not extend that far…yet. You say you only had contact with Alenez? There is no one else to ask?"

"Si!" She made her tone irritated, as though she were fed up with his slowness.

"All right," he raised his hands. "I will trust you, but only because this feather is so important. Go. I will never contact you again, so long as you do not…make me."

She fairly flew down the stairs of Galindo's office. She was free! But then two menacing, bulky men blocked her way.

"Let us take a little journey," one said, as the other clamped a hand over her mouth. She struggled, trying desperately to free herself. But lack of air was making her lightheaded, then dizzy, then everything was black. She knew no more.

* * *

Renata hurried to Don Francisco, bearing a folded note. "Don Francisco! Magdalena, she said for me to give this to you."

He took the note, frowning, and quickly opened it and read the message written inside.

_Father, I am sorry, but I have been offered too much. The Eagle promises me grandeur, more than I could ever attain by marrying Diego de la Vega. He means to marry me, I have learned, and must accept. It is my dream, you must see that, to be such an important figure, as I will be when I am the wife of the ruler of all California. Adios, mi padre. Magdalena._

Francisco couldn't believe his eyes, reading the letter over and over before he crumpled it up in fury. It was Magdalena's hand! No one else could have written it!

* * *

Diego walked into the tavern, just as Don Francisco, whose right arm was in a sling, crumpled a piece of paper and threw it on the ground.

"Don Francisco? What is the matter?" Diego asked in worry.

"Magdalena, my Magdalene, she has…eloped…with a…a man. I—that is—she had led me to believe she meant to—well, you must have heard the rumors! She made me think she would settle down and now she tells me she is marrying a strange man. And she gives no direction, gives me no way to follow her, and prevent her from this tragic mistake…Madre di Dios! Adela, help me now!" He said, running to the stairs and going up them.

Diego felt frozen. After what had happened, he had expected Magdalena to return to Mexico City with her father, not…this. He had felt so strongly towards her these past days. What anger he had felt last night was nothing like now. When she had spoken last night, _"You will let Don Diego know, also?"_ he could have sworn she knew.

Knew that he and Zorro were one and the same. The light in her eyes, the softness of her touch on his arm, how she had looked in the middle of the night, her hair tousled by sleep...

He had wanted so, so much to kiss her lips then, not just her hand, but he had known if he'd done that he would have had a much harder time leaving her windowsill. He couldn't afford to think that way.

Magdalena's betrayal cut him to the quick. His heart felt shattered. He could never remember her happily again. He strode from the tavern and rode home as fast as he could, feeling the urge to take the sheet of paper with the lyrics for her song on it, and rip it into shreds. _Mi Corazon…no, I don't think so._

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I will mention that the plot I intended this story to have was completely abandoned for a wholly new plot and while the ending will be quite trite, how it gets there will probably be unexpected.


	8. Countenance

Part Eight: Countenance

* * *

When Magdalena awoke, she was in the back of an enclosed carriage, tied and gagged very tightly. There was no one inside with her, but the carriage was moving, so someone was driving it, and quickly too. Testing her bonds, she found them completely impervious to her struggles. There was nothing she could do but wait.

Surely her father would notice her disappearance by now, surely he'd be looking for her, enlisting every able man's help. It might take them a while to find the right trail, but sooner or later…and if she could somehow leave some clue…the carriage would have to stop sometime!

* * *

…Or, maybe it didn't. The coach continued on and Magdalena found herself thankful that she hadn't eaten breakfast or she'd need to relieve herself. As it was, there was also a downside to that, for her stomach felt completely empty and growled. It continued for hours and hours, witnessed by the changing of the light through the shaded windows.

 _Night was when Zorro rode_ —Magdalena jerked to attention. Could Zorro find her? But she heard no hoof beats, and gradually relaxed again in disappointment. Finally, she fell into an uneasy sleep, feeling distinctly unfed and very uncomfortable.

The next morning, she presumed, she woke with a start when the carriage stopped. In moments, the door was opening and bright sunlight shone in. One of the men from yesterday stood there, and he hauled her out of the carriage, not roughly, though, and undid her bonds. Her limbs were stiff and cramped. She would have crumpled to the ground if he hadn't caught her. He held a cup of water to her lips and she drank deeply, draining its contents and then he refilled it and held it to her lips again.

She felt mostly recovered, and pushed away from the man and took a few, shaky steps. He caught hold of her arm as she noticed her surroundings.

 _She was on a wharf. There was a ship._ Her knees buckled but the man caught her. _Dios_. They were taking her back to Mexico City.

She tried to struggle but suddenly felt even more disoriented. The drug had hit her bloodstream. She was out in seconds.

* * *

When she awoke, she was indeed in a ship's cabin. It was very dark. She hadn't been rebound or gagged. She carefully rose from the bed, feeling strange, but well. And hungry.

As if on cue, the door opened, and a servant entered, bearing a tray. Light entered with the servant. The fare was simple: bread, dried meat and some fruit. An orange. Ignoring the fact that the last time she had accepted food from her captors it had drugged her, she ate quickly. She was too hungry, and was also lucid enough to think that they had no reason to drug her again for she was on the ship now. What could she do? Jump overboard? Not from here. It wasn't drugged anyway for no drowsiness descended upon her.

The servant left, and she tried the door, but it was locked. That certainly didn't surprise her. She paced the cabin all through the day—or so she assumed. There was no window with which to judge the hour. There was a lantern hung from the ceiling, which she lit, and it revealed a small, undecorated cabin, with a bed, chamber pot and a small table. No chair and the bed and table were bolted to the floor.

Every once in a while, she sat on the bed but always sprang up again, not wanting to relax. Her body was buzzing and it seemed to be waiting, but for what? _For the one who held her captive to come to her and reveal himself_.

Unless, maybe he wasn't there—maybe they were just bringing her to him. She felt energy drain from her body gradually in the long hours ahead. She sank down on the bed, planning to only sit for a moment, but instead fell back onto the pillow, and into a dreamless sleep. This routine lasted.

Food was brought twice a day, she'd pace for the rest, then fall into a deep sleep, occasionally plagued with nightmares. It was hard to keep track of time, and she found herself unable to tell when one day changed. It wasn't necessarily nighttime when she slept, but she took it to be so regardless. When she woke, then it was a new day, at least according to her.

She had tried once to dart past the servant but had come into a small hall, guarded by the two large men. She had gone back into the cabin almost immediately upon spying them. She didn't want to be drugged again.

She wondered often how her father was, and Diego, also. Were they searching for her? _Surely they would be._ Young senoritas disappearances were not taken lightly. There would be a whole search party, she imagined, perhaps even assisted by Zorro. Not publicly, perhaps, but maybe he sought her at night.

They wouldn't be able to find her though, and her heart ached at the thought of the pain her father must feel. But even so, maybe they could pick up some trail. Surely someone had seen her on the wharf, as she stumbled around and then collapsed in the man's arms. Such an unusual sight had to have been noted.

* * *

And her thoughts would then inevitably turn solely to Diego, remembering him, his beautiful face, his large hands, his muscular physique, the way his smile dazzled her. How he had seemed both a playful child and at the same time, completely masculine, entirely a man. The lips that wanted to touch hers but hadn't gotten a chance.

Then her thoughts would turn to Zorro; how different he was from Diego, yet how similar. The angry words spoken by him early in the evening, then tender ones later. How he had kissed her hand…how she had longed for him to remove the mask, yet so completely understood why he wouldn't; why he wore it in the first place.

If she had asked him...if he had indicated more reluctance to leave, what could have happened that night in the inn room, she always had to force herself to not dwell upon. She wished, in her loneliest moments, that she had asked him to spend the night. Despite his chivalry, despite her morals screaming with the knowledge that it would have been wrong, if she had asked…not taken the mantilla…touched his face instead of his arm…he would have stayed, desire trumping chastity.

But when those moments passed, she was always appreciative of the fact that he hadn't stayed. He was too moral a man. He would greatly regret his loss of control, and feel bitterly towards her for the temptation she had offered him. She felt relief in the knowledge that Diego would be searching for her, without any regrets on his conscience. And considering she had no idea what would be done to her, she was also glad that she had a mostly clean conscience also.

* * *

And then one day the servant brought a tub, then hot water. A silent maid accompanied him, bearing clothes for Magdalena. She also brought soaps. The servant left.

Magdalena was bathed and dressed in the clothes the servant brought. Besides necessary underwear, there was a dress; it was a very fine, very fancy, very expensive looking dress, its splendor even trumping Senorita Verdugo's. It was a burnt orange color, very high waisted, and very fitted at the bodice. The sleeves were tight to the elbows, and then they flared, slit to show her lower arm. The skirt swished around her legs as she walked. No shoes had been brought and for some reason her other shoes had been taken. The maid hadn't brought stockings. Magdalena's legs were bare, and her toes looked odd peeking out from the hem of her gown. The maid did her hair up tightly, securely. It wasn't a hairstyle that Magdalena would have chosen for her, but it did flatter her. It was pulled into a bun, but let little ringlets come down by her ears.

The male servant returned then, and he led her up to deck. The light—bright sun; it was midday—hurt her eyes but she gradually adjusted. The two large men had followed, and they stood guarding her.

The ship was not large, it was meant for more personal voyages but it didn't seem the type to carry passengers, so that explained the cabin's bareness and lack of space. She stood on the deck, blinking into the sunlight, and a man, clad in a captain's uniform, strode up to her.

He was very tall, at least a foot higher than her, maybe more, and very well muscled. He had the most powerful build she had ever seen, with huge shoulders, bulging arm and leg muscles, and trim of hip, exceedingly so. The contrast between his hips and shoulders was startling. It was obvious this man had devoted his life to achieving this level of physical perfection. His facial features were striking, sharp. He wasn't quite handsome, but he was certainly memorable. His voice was deep, rumbling, with a faint, unidentifiable accent. Magdalena simply couldn't place it.

"I am sorry, Senorita, for your treatment, but it was part of the deal your…it was a condition that you remained in your cabin until we were just outside our destination." He paused. "How are you feeling, Senorita? Healthy, I hope. The food was not that bad."

Magdalena sighed. There was nothing to be gained from yelling at him. He had been hired to abduct her. Well, he could have chosen a better line of work, but as to that, she really couldn't say anything, without the pot calling the kettle black.

"Buenos dias," she said, giving a mock curtsy. "Have we been introduced? I am Magdalena Montes, daughter of Francisco."

He looked surprised, then laughed. "I am Capitan Andres Criado of the Service of the King, at your service." His eyes were laughing at her. She felt uncomfortable and crossed her arms over her chest, regretting it when doing so caused his gaze to land there. She uncrossed her arms again, feeling foolish. He smoothly looked away from her.

"We will be landing soon." His gaze swept over her. "Why don't you have shoes? You will need shoes." He barked quick orders and in moments a chest of shoes was brought to her. "Pick the best fit." He instructed, and strode off.

Magdalena wondered what on earth this ship dealt in. She warily picked through the shoes and finally found a pair. They chafed her feet, though, for there hadn't been any stockings. She was taken back down and locked in her room again. With a sigh, she settled onto the bed. It was a few hours later when she was again led out. Fear struck her at the view from the deck—it was Manzanillo. They were taking her to Mexico City.

 _Who arranged my capture?_ She thought wildly as they led her across the deck, and instinctively fought against the men holding her, finally breaking free when she startled them with a heavy stomp on their feet. She had a few steps of freedom, then: "Oh!" She groaned as she collided with a steel wall. It was the captain.

"Honestly, what did you think to achieve doing that?" He asked, sounding amused. He guided Magdalena back to her captors. She didn't struggle as they guided her into the rowboat going to shore. The captain joined them in the boat. Fear gripped her heart.

Just as they reached shore, he pulled a cloak out of nowhere and threw it over her. "If you value your life, you will not remove this, or even let it slip to show your face, until we reach Mexico City," he told her, in a quiet, menacing voice.

They rode to Mexico City in a private carriage, but once there Captain Criado indicated that they would be walking the rest of the way.

They strode down a busy street. She kept her head down, needing to, and so found it difficult to keep track of where they were going. Finally, they reached a rough looking tavern. She was led through it to a back room, where she was guided to a chair. She sat down and briefly placed her head in her hands, just feeling too tired and worried. The bodyguards stayed while the captain left, finally returning.

"Adios, Senorita Montes. Let us go," he said, snapping his fingers and the trio of men departed.

A new man came through the door, a tall, slim, distinguished looking man, with light brown hair that had just a hint of silver. She felt a vague recognition; she had definitely seen his face before, she just couldn't place it. He moved to close and lock the door behind him.

"You may let down your cloak, Senorita." He said evenly, walking to the other chair, and placed his cloak, hat and cane on it. She pulled back the hood, letting it fall off her head. He nodded. "Magdalena Montes. Buenos noches. I am the Viceroy, Don Estevan de la Callas, in case you do not recognize me."

She jerked to attention, feeling both relieved and more frightened than before. Relieved it wasn't one of the Eagle's men; frightened because of Galindo's— _"He was sent by the Viceroy to spy on you,"_ and Mendoza's words— _"Things altered in the night…I have been told you are not to be trusted in any way."_

"I arranged for your…capture," Don Esteban said slowly. "For I heard of plans concerning you."

"Oh?" She asked quietly.

"The Eagle wants you for himself, quite frankly. I have heard frightening things about his plans for you. I captured you for your own safety."

She stared at him. "What does this mean?"

He didn't look at her. "We have known about your involvement with Alenez from the beginning. Despite appearances, our government—certain parts of it—actually possesses quite a bit of knowledge of the Eagle and his doings. You were first approached by Alenez on the Eagle's orders. He had seen you at a party, and immediately, uh, desired you. He wanted you to go higher and higher in his ranks, until the time came for you to meet him. He planned for you to get in deeper and deeper, so that even if you weren't...attracted to him, you would have no choice but to accept his offer. If he had heard from the Magistrado about all the events that transpired in Los Angeles during your stay there, your life would have been in direct peril."

He paused a moment, and an odd smile briefly played on his lips.

"Even Zorro could not have saved you then. I had my men take you because I feared what would happen if the Eagle got his claws on you. It has been arranged that you will stay with my daughter Constancia, in Monterey. You will travel there, with her, as her maid. You will be known as Miranda Calienta. Magdalena Montes will have ceased existing. Believe me, Senorita, this is for your own safety. When the Eagle's reign is ended, you may return as yourself, but to reveal yourself before then…it would put our whole cause in peril." He sighed, a grim smile on his face.

"Put your cloak back on. We will go to my house now, and you will be introduced as a new maid for Constancia. She will help you disguise yourself. Come along." She pulled her cloak tight as they hurried along.

It was getting dark and no one looked at them. A carriage waited outside, which drove away the instant they closed the door. The Viceroy was silent as they drove. Magdalena's head was spinning and she wasn't sure if she should say anything. What did he mean, _"it would put our whole cause in peril."_

 _I can't be that important,_ she insisted to herself. _I'm just a stupid girl who has gotten in over my head._

The carriage stopped. The Viceroy hurried out, turning to help her. They stood in front of a respectable hacienda. It wasn't as grand as some official's houses, and for that fact Magdalena decided to respect the Viceroy more. He hadn't taken the job for grandeur or riches. He had taken it to do the job, and do it well. Recalling what few times the Viceroy had come up in conversations, he had always been spoken of with respect, everyone agreeing he was a good man.

She hurried after him into the house. A few servants milled about, but dispersed at the wave of the Viceroy's hand. A senorita was descending the staircase: Constancia, his daughter.

"You made it here safely?" She inquired, anxiously studying her father. He nodded.

"Si. This is Miranda Calienta, your new maid."

As Magdalena passed him, he whispered to her, "She knows everything."

Magdalena curtsied to her, as a servant would. It felt very discomfiting to do so.

Constancia beamed. "Come along, Miranda, and help me pack. Con permiso, father?" He stepped forward and quickly embraced his daughter. "Of course."

Constancia led the way upstairs, pushing the door to her room open with ease. The room was large, elegantly decorated, but not frivolously. More respect for the Viceroy and his family rose in Magdalena.

Constancia shut the door firmly behind them. "You may take off your cloak now."

She did so, placing it on the back of a chair.

Constancia raised her eyebrows. "You're definitely as beautiful as rumors say. What a figure," she said admiringly. "And on top of that, what hair! But, this shall make it harder to disguise you. We shall have to change your hairstyle drastically, and your gown choice, also. Something loose would do. Now you are too recognizable." She said the rest matter-of-factly.

"You need to change immediately. I have just the dress in mind."

She went to her wardrobe and rummaged around for a moment. Magdalena caught a glimpse of a reasonable selection of clothes. Enough for everything but not an overabundance. Her wardrobe reminded Magdalena of her own. Now Constancia wore a simple dress, not unlike the one Magdalena had worn her first day on the ship going to Los Angeles.

She sighed with the realization that another voyage was expected of her. _This would be the third in six weeks!_ She sank down into the chair as Constancia found the correct dress. It was dark blue, of rough material, very plain, and on Magdalena it would indeed be loose. Constancia frowned at the sight of it.

"It is the wrong material for this time of year. You'll swelter," she declared, and cast the dress back down. "We shall have to get you some plain blouses and skirts. We can pad you so that your waist doesn't appear so small. This will be hard." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but you will have to wear this dress for now." She picked it back up again. "The question is, what are you wearing now? Did you wear that all the way from Los Angeles?"

"No, I got it on the ship just before we went ashore. My clothes from Los Angeles were unrecognizable. I wore them all the way here."

Constancia looked startled. "Hmm. It seems you had a bath today also?"

"Si." Magdalena returned, standing and reaching behind her to catch the fastenings. Constancia strode quickly over and started helping her with the fastenings.

"This is a beautiful dress. But this must be the last time I help you, for you are supposed to be my maid, and I will pay you as if you are, for you'll be doing the work!" The dress was off and soon Constancia helped her into the dark blue gown. The material was rough, and it enveloped her.

Constancia let out a surprised laugh. "It looks terrible!" She exclaimed. "But, that is good. Now for your hair."

She abruptly pulled the pins from Magdalena's bun and it tumbled down. Constancia took a brush and pulled it through Magdalena's hair. "Sit down. You've a lot of tangles for me to work through, so we might as well go over some things. Do you have any immediate questions?"

"Si. What was my father told? What are the people of Los Angeles thinking about my disappearance?"

Constancia winced. "That is a nasty thing to answer. I'm sorry. A letter was written in a likeness of your hand, saying that you had decided to, uh, elope with…someone. Our watcher from Los Angeles reported that Don Francisco was quite angry at the news. I am sorry we had to do that. I believe the news he spread about was that you returned to take care of his cousin, Valentina."

Magdalena felt frozen. After all that wondering, _no one_ was searching for her. _No one_ even cared where she had gone. And Diego—what did Diego think of her?

She felt her resolve crumble and started to cry quietly. Constancia finished her brushing and pinned Magdalena's hair up tight at her nape. The style aged her, making her look like a spinster, albeit a beautiful one. Constancia handed her a handkerchief.

"You're looking worse already." She declared. "We can get you an ugly hat or veil and that can cover your hair and shade your face. You truly have lovely hair, and it wouldn't do for it to be seen; it would attract attention, maybe even admirers." She crouched down beside Magdalena. "Be strong. Help me change into a dinner gown, and then you may rest while I have dinner. Then we can speak longer."

Magdalena helped Constancia change, and then Constancia frowned. "I'd rather not let you mingle with the servants, for they may notice something amiss. I know everyone will find it hard to believe you are a maid so we must keep you hidden. You just sleep on my bed for now and I'll make certain my room isn't disturbed. You are busy packing." Her eyes twinkled, and she reached to clasp her hand. "Be strong, Miranda." She said, stressing the new name, and winking. Magdalena squeezed back. Constancia swept from the room and Magdalena collapsed on the bed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who captured her probably wasn't who you were expecting. I took some liberties with the character of Constancia but nothing too extreme. I made her very 'in the know' and gave her a rather brusque temperament. She is not one to waste time.
> 
> At the moment, Magdalena is fighting despair. She is very lonely and doesn't understand many things. She is resigning herself to the fact that she got herself into this mess, and, unfortunately, no one will help her out of it. To her view, the Viceroy and Constancia are just digging her in deeper, no matter how good their intentions are.


	9. Changes in Circumstance

Part Nine: Changes in Circumstances

* * *

Constancia was pacing the room when Magdalena awoke a few hours later. "I brought a tray for you." She said, noticing Magdalena had awoken. She brought it over. It was soup and rice, with water on the side. She ate slowly, savoring the food. Constancia perched on the foot of the bed. "This must be the last time I do something like this," she began, "for you must remember that you are my new maid. It is critical for someone in hiding to never reveal that this is not their proper station. You must not let on how much you know about anything besides, oh, I don't know, ladies' dresses and such. Some people do educate their servants, but that fact is still not shouted everywhere. If someone speaks to you say as little as possible. Always make it apparent that you are a servant. Try to direct all questions to me." She spoke hurriedly in a quiet voice. "We want to keep you safe, you must believe that and trust me, Miranda," she entreated.

Magdalena wished very strongly that she had met Constancia before now. She looked to be a wonderful woman, and a very good person to call friend.

"I'll remember that," she said. "And everything you told me."

Constancia smiled. "As I said, I don't want you mixing with the servants; they'd spot you in a minute. You'll have to sleep on the couch. I'd give you the bed but a maid could come in early tomorrow and it wouldn't do for you to occupy my bed. Help me out of my dress, please." She finished quickly, not seeming to take one breath.

The next day passed slowly, filled with Constancia giving her directions and providing her with better clothes. At night they finalized her disguise. As planned, her hair as pulled back to her neck, covering her ears, and pinned tightly there. Also on her head she planned to regularly wear a gray hat, of the type that Inez had worn that day in Los Angeles. Then came loose, plain dresses and skirts with blouses.

"You don't quite look the maid still. Maybe we'll go with spinster cousin once in Monterey." Constancia said thoughtfully. "At any rate, I am satisfied with my work. You look typically plain, and that is a hard feat to achieve." She sighed. "We leave tomorrow afternoon. I'm sorry that you must take yet another voyage, but it cannot be avoided. The instant you leave this house you'll be recognized. The Eagle sees everywhere—but we see more, a fact that comforts me greatly."

* * *

Indeed, Magdalena found it hard to willingly walk up the gangplank to the ship. The carriage ride there had been tense enough. Though the carriage was a closed one, she had kept her head down the whole way, instinctively. Being out in Mexico City again paralyzed her, and she was reluctant to look through the windows, afraid of what and who she might see.

With a deep, calming breath, Magdalena forced herself up the gangplank, following Constancia, and her _duena_ with her own, separate maid. They were led to two adjoining cabins, both a far cry from the one Magdalena had most recently traveled in. Once they had cast off, Constancia started writing madly. "Instructions to be posted once we reach San Pedro. This trip gives me valuable time to catch up on various correspondences."

* * *

Constancia's duena was an old aunt named Maria, who was almost deaf, and slept half the time. "She is perfect; always there for propriety's sake but never interrupting." She said as she started on yet another letter. "I brought lots of paper," she said and thrust a few sheets at Magdalena. "You may use some." And that was the last time Constancia spoke to her that day. There wasn't a formal dinner that night and Constancia only ate the orange from the tray sent to the cabin. She stayed up writing into the night, ignoring everything around her. Magdalena merely stared at the sheets of paper she'd been given and wondered if she would ever use them. She placed them with her things and tried to think of things other than capture.

* * *

That night, for the first time, Magdalena dreamt of Diego. He was striding across a crowded dance floor to her. She was wearing the white dress Pilar had spilled wine on, but it was clean now. She already had a partner, but she didn't care; she kept trying to get away from him, but she couldn't. Once Diego reached her side, her faceless partner had a death grip on her arm. Diego just looked at them. "I wonder why I bothered," he said, and walked away. Magdalena tried again to escape her partner but couldn't. his hand burned into her flesh, gripping her arm tighter and tighter, until she cried out.

It was that sound that awoke her. She jerked upwards, horror and fright still coursing through her. She knew she would sleep no more that night, so she climbed from the bed and paced the cabin. The moon was full again. She wished for fresh air but didn't dare go up on deck. Constancia appeared to be a heavy sleeper for Magdalena's cry hadn't woken her. Magdalena felt too alert to sleep again or even sit down. She dressed quickly, in dark clothes, deciding to go up on deck, just for a moment, after all.

She slipped from the cabin and hurried up the stairs. She'd just go up, smell the air and come back down. But when she reached the deck, she stopped. The stars were shining very brightly. She walked over to the rail and just stood there, staring up at the night sky's absolute splendor. She breathed in, delighting in the fresh sea air. A spray of water came up, splashing her in the face. A surprised, hushed laugh came forth from her. The night's peacefulness stayed with her as she descended below deck, to the cabin, to her bed. She slept deeply then, with no dreams.

* * *

Constancia woke her. "I need help with my gown," she said, a distracted look on her face. Magdalena sat up and quickly did the fastenings. "Gracias. I'm going up. You should stay here and mend this hem." Her brisk persona faded for a moment. "You are my maid."

Magdalena just nodded. Constancia smiled faintly and charged from the cabin, pausing briefly to grab Maria.

Magdalena got out of bed and dressed quickly, doing her hair in the plain style, and eating quickly. She then took the dress Constancia had pointed out, a day dress in green. She ran her fingers along the hem until she found the rip.

She started to sew, with careful stitches. She didn't really like sewing, but at least this was practical. She finished the hem and decided to go through Constancia's wardrobe, to see if anything else needed repair. All of Constancia's possessions seemed to be in excellent condition. There was a petticoat with a ripped seam—quickly repaired and set aside—but that was all. No loose buttons, no unraveling stitches marred any piece of her clothing. Magdalena placed the dress back on the trunk and stood. She was fairly certain that maids weren't really allowed on deck, so she knew she wouldn't leave the cabin.

Constancia finally reentered the cabin. Maria trailed behind her, looking exhausted.

"Today we eat in the dining room. I will need my best dress."

Her best dress was green silk, and very closely fitted. She wore it with long black gloves and very long mantilla.

It was odd to dress her in it, and to do her hair. While Constancia never made any orders, not really, she always phrased them as requests, Magdalena felt just a bit bitter, to see her look so elegant. It was the same feeling that had swept through her upon meeting the Verdugos.

Magdalena finished doing the tiny buttons on Constancia's gloves. "Gracias. I will see you later."

Maria had her own maid, Dulce, one almost as old as she was. She had only just finished dressing her mistress also, in a grey silk. Dulce had proven herself to be standoffish. She didn't seem to want to have anything to do with Magdalena and she puzzled over this fact for a while. She seemed to be in the midst of a sewing project and didn't like interruptions.

Constancia swept Maria from the room. Magdalena looked to Dulce, who had gone back to sewing.

"What are you making?" She inquired.

Dulce sighed at the interruption. "A gown for my granddaughter. She celebrates her second year soon."

"May I help with anything?" She asked.

"You could repair this dress of Maria's," and Dulce handed Magdalena an old looking dress. Magdalena paused for a bit, then decided Dulce was expecting her to leave. So she did.

* * *

Most of the voyage went that way, with Magdalena scrambling for something to do. Her days were filled with as much sewing as she could find, and she went upon deck during the night as much as was possible. Though she knew that Constancia always meant well, she was beginning to feel flashes of anger when Constancia gave her a request without so much as a second glance and she resented the fact that there was literally nothing for her to do but sew.

Dulce stayed closemouthed, but gradually started to allow Magdalena to stay in the room, and keep her company. They sewed together, in silent companionship most days for at least an hour. Constancia remained a whirlwind, dragging Maria all over the boat.

As they neared California, and Magdalena's thoughts turned increasingly to Diego, she started to dream about him almost every night. She'd wake up around midnight, gasping for breath, be the dream pleasant or terrifying. Almost always she'd get out of bed and make her way up on deck, and just breathe in the air for a while, stare up at the stars in admiration, and drink in the serenity being there brought her.

One day, while fastening Constancia's dress, Magdalena decided to ask her about Diego. "How well do you know him?"

Constancia shrugged. "Oh, my father and I would see him from time to time when we traveled through Los Angeles. Don Alejandro always asked us to dine with him. I used to a bit of a _muchachota_. We played together sometimes, when our parents were talking too long after dinner, we'd sneak away and climb trees. When we passed through Los Angeles most recently, it was to depose the commandante, for he was very corrupt."

"Capitan Monastario, you mean?"

"Si. Anyway, this Monastario was convinced that Diego was Zorro! He brought him out, dressed as Zorro, and unmasked him in front of us. It was ridiculous. Diego was so bewildered by the whole thing, but he was, of course, the perfect gentleman."

"Of course," Magdalena said softly. She finished doing the fastenings, and Constancia swept from the room. She slowly grew accustomed to Constancia's brusque manner. She had suddenly realized that it wasn't meant as a slight; she simply always had many things on her mind and could never fully concentrate on Magdalena.

 _And why should she? She must have many things much more important that me on her mind,_ Magdalena would think whenever Constancia was especially brusque or hurrying. The old anger would still appear, though, but not as often, and it always went quickly.

Then the news shouted that they'd reach San Pedro in two days time. Magdalena spent the whole day pacing, unable to sit still. California…here again. And Monterey, at that.


	10. California Sunshine

Part Ten: California Sunshine

* * *

They docked early in the morning. Constancia hadn't expected it to be so early, and they were scrambling to pack her trunk again. Constancia had changed her mind about Magdalena playing the part of spinster relation. "You'd get too much attention, and besides that, everyone would be wanting to know who exactly you are related to." She said as she sat on the trunk and Magdalena struggled to lock it. She finally forced it and Constancia bounced up. "It must be time to go ashore now. It will be nice to be in California."

Magdalena's hand was throbbing from trying to lock the trunk. She was sweaty, also, and she quickly gathered her hair off her neck, pinning it tightly to the top of her head. She then took one of Maria's hats and placed it on her head. It did the trick. She was now a spinster like Valentina. "That won't do!" Constancia cried. "That hat is much too fancy for a maid!"

"Not if it is a lady's maid. I bought it with my savings. It is my most treasured possession." Magdalena protested.

Constancia started to say something and then closed her mouth for a moment. "That does work. Buena. But won't Maria want her hat?"

"She hasn't worn it yet."

"That is because it is a land hat, and we've been on a boat!" Magdalena took the hat off.

Constancia frowned at her hair. "You have already forgotten how to style your hair?" Magdalena ripped the pins out of her hair and redid it. Constancia beamed. "Perfect!"

That interlude showed how the rest of the day would be. Constancia was putting on an act, playing at being a snob. In her worse moments, Magdalena was convinced it wasn't an act. From the moment they disembarked, Constancia had been ordering her about frantically. Nothing seemed to be good enough for her. _No, not that one, the smaller!_ _Andale! Why must you be so slow? My reticule! Oh, my hat! Fetch it already!_

By the time they boarded the coach to Monterey, Magdalena was exhausted. She sagged against the seat of the coach with a sigh, glad for the near empty coach. She hoped to fall asleep but it jostled very frequently and Magdalena sighed and tried to get comfortable. They reached an inn, where they would spend the night. Constancia took charge of everything in her best imitation of a snob, and they got a large room. As was expected, Constancia and Maria got the bed, Dulce got a pallet because of her old age, and Magdalena got the floor.

She didn't sleep for the first half of the night; she didn't even try. Instead she crept outside and gazed up at the moon there were only a few days left in the moon's cycle. Soon there would be no moon gazing down at Magdalena with his friendly face. Tonight there was only a sliver, which called to mind Mendoza, and she had no idea why.

Magdalena wrapped her shawl tighter around her and thought of Inez. What was her aunt doing? Had she gotten farther with Sergeant Garcia? She hoped Inez had. _Someone should get happiness from that interlude_ , she thought solemnly.

Her thoughts turned to Zorro. She was surprised that the Viceroy, and Constancia, hadn't seen through his disguise, as sharp as they were. They had seen Diego dressed as Zorro, unmasked as Zorro, and had not believed. But at the same time, maybe Zorro had not truly been unmasked that night.

She started back towards the inn; a chilly breeze had swept through her. She changed directions midway and went to the stables instead, pausing to rub the lone horse she found there, patting his neck, for she found she didn't want to go back inside, not yet, at any rate. It made her feel claustrophobic. It was too much like when she been traveling to Los Angeles, when she hadn't yet met Diego.

Diego…what was he doing? Judging by the moon, it had been about six weeks since those two beautiful days in Los Angeles. How much could happen in that time?

Considering Galindo, much. And considering Zorro…even more.

She leaned against the horse and he nickered softly. There was comfort in the action. It brought to mind sunlit days riding with her father, feeling wild and carefree. It also brought to mind her ride with Diego. She smiled, remembering the second foiled kiss. Oh, but that was past. She forced herself to stand upright and patted the horse goodbye, and went back inside.

She spent the rest of the night repairing a bodice of Constancia's gown by candlelight, for sewing had unfortunately proved to be her only outlet and she had no desire to sleep.

* * *

They arrived in Monterey on a cloudy day. Constancia was her usual whirlwind as she swept them through the town to her small town house. "We often stay here, so we have our own house," Constancia told her as they unpacked. "It is quite convenient. I expect visitors to start coming soon, maybe even tomorrow. I always entertain frequently—but only in Monterey. You will need to be especially vigilant. No one can catch sight of you."

Magdalena nodded, and hung Constancia's best dress in the wardrobe. "Si."

In truth, that appealed greatly to Magdalena. Considering who she knew lived in Monterey, she didn't wish to see anyone.

The days passed. Time went on, as it is wont to do. Magdalena discovered a before now undiscovered talent: she was an excellent lady's maid. Constancia even increased her pay, and Magdalena began to buy little things that pleased her. She bought a book of poetry and, as she read it, wondered if Diego had read the volume.

The Verdugos came to call sometimes—Anna Maria did, at any rate. Magdalena ducked out of sight at those times, usually going to the stable.

Constancia, noticing her longing one day as she had dressed Constancia in a green riding outfit, had given her permission to ride whenever Constancia entertained. The horse she was permitted to ride, an Arabian called Luz, was not a young horse, and not as fast as she had reportedly been in her youth, but Magdalena loved her all the same, riding as long as she dared.

Constancia always quirked a brow when she came in late, and made certain that she hadn't encountered anyone, but never scolded her, not even when Magdalena had come in too late to help her into a particularly tricky dress, a new one, in gold chiffon. Constancia seemed to understand that Magdalena needed something to do. And if it was riding all hours of the day, and once into the night, so be it. The anger almost never came now and Magdalena was finding Constancia to be much more agreeable in Monterey. After all, traveling puts strains on everyone.

News came; Constancia received missives frequently but it was a rare occasion that she would share her news.

"The Eagle will soon arrive to Los Angeles." She had let that news drop when Magdalena was fastening an ivy colored day dress. "The man there told me. He will come under the guise of being the new Adminastrado. But Jose Sebastian Varga is the Eagle, and never once loyal to the King."

"Varga! But I know him!" Magdalena exclaimed. "It was at his fiesta when Alenez first approached me." She sank to the floor, her knees failing her.

Constancia crouched down beside her. "All will be well, Magdalena. Los Angeles can defend herself. Varga will not get her."

And that very same day, when Magdalena was getting ribbon for Constancia in the market place, for redoing a hat, she saw Don Alejandro, coming out of the inn. "Oh my—" she gasped out. Alejandro wouldn't see her, of course, but it was still very unsettling to spy him there.

Heart beating a staccato beat, she raced back to Constancia's side, who was waiting in the carriage. "Has something happened?" She asked, noticing Magdalena's white face.

"I just saw Alejandro de la Vega." She whispered back. Even her voice had fled.

"Really?" Constancia stretched the word greatly, and craned her neck to see past Magdalena. "Really…"

* * *

"The rumor is that Don Alejandro came to Monterey to ask the governor's permission to get together a civilian army." Constancia announced that evening.

"Rumor? Surely it is not that public." She undid the clasp of Constancia's necklace, and worried her lip, anxiety making her fidget.

Constancia took the necklace with a short laugh. "The rumor was extremely exclusive. Do not worry."

* * *

"Varga has arrived in Los Angeles. He has taken over the de la Vega hacienda." Constancia said the next morning. Magdalena jerked her head up from where she crouched on the floor, straightening Constancia's hem.

"The de la Vega—what about Diego? What did he do?" **  
**

Constancia shrugged. "My informer could not get that much information."

* * *

Days passed then. Alejandro had departed back to Los Angeles. News seemed to be reaching Constancia's ears, but she didn't choose to share it.

Magdalena found herself riding even more, and one day when Constancia was away, she rode from dawn until noon, coming in exhausted and soaked with sweat. Her life was too sheltered here, and she longed for more things to do, for excitement, and when it grew too much, she forced herself to remember what her longing for adventure had landed her in the first time around.

Then news came that had Constancia singing very loudly and very exuberantly. "Varga's men have been routed, and the tyrant himself is dead. Los Angeles is free again!"

That was a happy day. But with it came the realization that going back to Los Angeles still wasn't possible, at least not in Magdalena's mind, and when Constancia broached the subject Magdalena avoided answering.

Who knew what her father thought of her now? She didn't want to face his disappointment. It was better to stay hidden.

_Some time later..._

What Magdalena knew was that Monterey was teeming with dons and their sons sent from various pueblos bringing that pueblo's pledge of gold for the Verdugos. Yes, their venture was now taking flight, almost a year later. She had slowly become used to the idea that she couldn't return to Los Angels in the months since Varga's defeat. She did not have much of an idea what her father had let become public. Maybe even now the truth—well, what he believed to be truth—had come out, that she had eloped. She really couldn't return then.

A sigh escaped her lips as she helped Constancia into nightclothes. She was coming from a fiesta at the Verdugo's, a small affair for their current guests, and for the more important figures in Monterey, like the Governor and his daughter Leonar, and, of course, Constancia, the daughter of the Viceroy, who was still in Mexico City. This fact worried Constancia, but she would never let it show and it was a sign of how well she now knew Constancia that she could pick up on that.

* * *

"Milana and my uncle are away and as you know my father is very busy these days. I'm afraid I wasn't welcome at home!" Though Anna Maria said these words lightly, indicating that it was a joke, Constancia read more into her words. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have come so late. And I brought you these."

"My favorite," Constancia said as Anna Maria settled into a chair and a servant brought in a tray of delicacies. "But some cannot tolerate them. I suppose that is not the case with you."

"I've always enjoyed them very much. You've always had them prepared just perfectly," Anna Maria told Constancia and her hostess quirked a brow as she handed Anna Maria a plate.

"I'm afraid my father doesn't feel that way, so they grace my table very infrequently. Thank you for bringing some by," Constancia said, indicating the basket of hot peppers that Anna Maria still had by her elbow.

"Your cook just seems to be able to know what to do with them," Anna Maria said with a laugh. "Mine always drowns them. That is what happens when you hire a foreign cook. Of course that was father's insistence. I was just fine with Felicidad. But he is always wanting the fine things. He never likes me to wear dresses more than six months. He says he gets tired of them."

"So that is why you have such a changing wardrobe. I always wondered," Constancia took the basket that Anna Maria now held out. "I'll take this to the kitchens—"

"Oh, no, you don't have to yet," Anna Maria protested. "Weren't we talking?"

"I'll be back in a moment," Constancia assured her. "And I need to speak about how these are prepared. I am having the Cortez family to dinner tonight, and if I recall, Senor Cortez is sensitive to them, but the rest of his family delights in them. It will take careful planning and it's getting late, so I should speak to Carmen now."

* * *

It was later than Magdalena had anticipated when she got back from her ride and she hurried to change. Even though Constancia had never scolded her, she really did feel guilty when she arrived too late to help. Clothes changed, she went to Constancia's room to help her, but Constancia wasn't up yet, even though it was getting late. _Maybe she thinks I haven't come back yet,_ was Magdalena's thought as she went down the stairs and into the sala. There she stopped. Anna Maria stood there, turning in surprise when Magdalena entered.

She knew the protocol and hastily curtsied. "Senorita." Then, head bowed, she made to hurry past Anna Maria, but the woman spoke. "No, wait a moment."

She strode over and to Magdalena's surprise bent to pick something up. "I think you dropped this," she said amiably, and for one stricken moment Magdalena's gaze met Anna Maria's. But the woman just smiled and proffered the hand holding the handkerchief and Magdalena took it. "Gracias."

 _And there wasn't need to worry. She didn't even recognize me!_ Magdalena wasn't sure how to feel about that.

* * *

Life was growing busier and Constancia was getting involved in more and more things. Her days were very busy and her nights full of fiestas and meetings. Magdalena found that more and more responsibilities were being given to her, and she didn't mind it that much. Now she wasn't simply a ladies' maid, and she enjoyed that. But it certainly kept her occupied and she had less time to spend worrying over the question of Los Angeles.

So she never even considered who would come bearing the gold from there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was only in rereading this as I post it that I realize how fast paced it suddenly became. I suppose that is my 'style'. I won't dedicate chapter upon chapter to a part in my story that could just as easily be told in one, but I will admit that this chapter and the last one are a bit lacking in excitement. Things will pick up.
> 
> Almost a year just passed. Magdalena does often feel a strong pull to go to Los Angeles but ultimately she takes the easy way out and can't make herself do it. I think that it is true to her character. It's obvious that she didn't want to give the feather to Galindo but ultimately did so without a struggle.


	11. Flights of Fancy

Part Eleven: Flights of Fancy

* * *

"I am glad you will go to Monterey, Diego. Your promise to do so is most, uh, promising." Alejandro said, taking a sip of wine; his best Madeira.

Diego shrugged, moving his pawn. "Check."

Alejandro sighed. "I am trying to speak with you of Monterey. Pay attention."

"I am, father. I am merely placing you in check at the same time," Diego protested, spreading his hands wide.

An exasperated snort came from Alejandro's direction. He reached forward and moved his bishop three spaces, taking the pawn. Diego raised his eyebrows at the move, but said nothing.

"Diego, Don Gregorio and I were indeed good friends. But I know how people can change." His eyes briefly flicked to Diego, as if to give a living example of change, and his son's jaw tightened. "Gregorio could indeed be gathering the gold for his own gain. It is good, your plan to not travel with it, to have soldiers bring it after you."

Diego moved his rook all the way to the other side of the board. "And checkmate. You walked right into that one, father."

Alejandro slammed the glass down. "Concentrate! Listen, try not to come off as too, uh, wary with Gregorio. He is a very proud man. Almost," he spread his hands around, searching for the word. "Haughty. Oh, he is a good enough man, but if your words carry but a hint of insult…you must tread carefully, my son."

Diego leaned back in his chair, and steepled his hands. "I know, father. I will be—I will tread with care. In other news, the Viceroy's daughter is said to be in Monterey, without her father. She has been, for some months. It's rare for them to be apart for so long. Usually, they always traveled together. You remember how they would visit us over the years?"

"Si." Alejandro reluctantly let the subject be changed. "Constancia used to be quite the little devil."

Diego's eyes lowered. "Si." Completely dropping the subject of Monterey, as he poured another glass, Alejandro spoke. "Don Francisco called earlier."

Diego's hand twitched rather violently. "Oh?"

"Si. Just a short visit. We discussed cattle. I got the feeling he had actually wished to speak with you, but was relieved anyway that you weren't here. It made me wonder at his message for you."

"Indeed," Diego said softly, reaching now to pour his own glass of Madeira. "You just spoke of cattle?"

"Mostly. He did mention Inez, briefly, and then Magdalena." Alejandro frowned into his glass. "Wouldn't it be trying to have to take another ship voyage so soon after the first? Magdalena's heart must be made of gold for her to hasten so swiftly back to her father's cousin's side. What is her name? Do you recall?"

"Valentina." The lines around Diego's eyes tightened. "If I am leaving in the morning, I should get some sleep. Con permiso, father?"

Alejandro nodded distractedly. Diego bounded from the room with only a few long legged strides. He soon reached his room, pausing a bit before going in. Bernardo was packing a saddle bag, and he jumped in surprise when Diego entered, quickly shoving the bag out of view.

"You know, I'll be glad to be in Monterey." Diego announced, flopping onto the bed. Bernardo stood, walked over and signed, _why?_

"Frankly, because my father won't be there." Bernardo's eyes widened and he chuckled. "See, you understand. Lately, he has been dropping too many hints about senoritas. And he persists in thinking I am too incompetent to go to Monterey alone. The number of times he has told me of Verdugo's pride…does he really think I will go around throwing insults at him like balls?" Diego gave a frustrated growl.

Bernardo shrugged, again moving his hands swiftly. "I know, he is just cautioning me. But his cautions come too close to insults. Doesn't he worry about my pride?" Bernardo shook his head in faux mournfulness. Diego rolled his eyes and let out a loud laugh. He picked up his pillow and threw it at Bernardo, who was laughing too.

"He doesn't, and neither do you! What a family I have!" He turned over, letting his back show to Bernardo as his _mozo_ resumed packing, even more happy now that Diego had called him family.

* * *

Then one day Constancia started forcing the question of Los Angeles and that led to a bitter quarrel between them.

"If you want me in Los Angeles, you should never have made me leave!" Magdalena said angrily and Constancia sighed.

"We have been over that. Si, we could have had a more solid plan. But it was the best we could do under such circumstances. Our informer saw that things were getting alarming between you and Diego and that he had to arrange for your departure from Los Angeles. This was what we had arranged with him. If anything happened that could harm you, then it had to be arranged that you left immediately."

"Alarming!"

"You know what I mean!" Constancia snapped back.

Silence settled over them, broken by Constancia. "It is time for you to return to Los Angeles. I never meant to displace you and I wish to mend that." Constancia's tone was soft but Magdalena only left. She swept up the stairs, to her small room in the servants quarters. She let her hair down, pulling the pins from it and feeling it fall down her back. She strode to the tiny wardrobe and from it pulled the orange dress she'd been given on Capitan Criado's ship. She took the cloak, also, laying it over the bed. She changed as quickly as she could, pausing to look at herself when the dress was on. She was already looking more like her old self. She took her hairbrush and brushed her hair thoroughly, not leaving one tangle.

She bit her lips to give them color, and pinched her cheeks, no longer playing the part of the colorless maid. She looked herself over, making sure she looked as beautiful as she knew she could. She smoothed the skirt, then reached for the shoes provided on the ship. She placed them carefully on her feet, fastening them tightly, and stood again, studying herself. She had never looked better. She took the cloak, placing it over her arm, and walked out the door of her bedroom.

She strode downstairs and back into the sala.

Constancia didn't bat an eye but she did ask, "You are traveling in that?"

"Si. Don't be insulted but I don't wish to wear anything you bought me."

Constancia sighed. "That is fair enough, considering what a mess I made of your life. But Magdal—"

"I think the name was Miranda." The words were spoken softly, with only a hint of bitterness. Looking back, Constancia had helped and the decision to kidnap her wasn't hers alone, or maybe not hers at all. Magdalena fought hard to recognize that.

"Adios," she told her, and Constancia returned it softly.

With that, she swept from the room, throwing her cloak over her shoulders as she headed to the stables and had the boy saddle Luz. It would be awkward, riding in a dress like this, but she ignored that. At least she had the cloak covering it, so any passersby would not stare. She rode into Monterey, tied her horse in front of the inn and walked inside.

"I'd like a room, por favor." The innkeeper looked rather surprised.

"Of course. You must sign the book, then." He picked it up and placed it on the counter. She hesitated, pen in hand, and finally wrote, M. Herrera. The innkeeper seemed to sense her hesitation and frowned. She straightened quickly.

"I will send someone to get your things," he began.

"Oh, no, I do not have any. But you could tend to my horse?"

His eyes widened. "No things, senorita? No servants? Were you robbed, Senorita, eh, Herrera?" He glanced at the book and again frowned. He didn't recognize the name, and it annoyed him.

"Something like that," Magdalena hurried. "Si, no things, no servants. Could you tend to my horse? It is the Arabian out front."

"Si," he said, and then led her to her room. "Would you, uh, pay now?"

He didn't trust her. She wasn't sure whether to feel thankful for that or bitter. She gave him his pesos and he gave a half smile, counting it when he thought she wasn't looking.

She entered the room and closed the door.

* * *

His third day in Monterey, he spent a morning at the Verdugos, during which Anna Maria lied and her father showed himself to be suspicious yet again. Diego came back to the inn exhausted. He had ridden out to meet Garcia and Reyes, then seen them off again when they had given the gold over to him.

 _I am glad there was no incident with the gold. I was expecting a need for Zorro, and I am very happy there wasn't._ But something Don Gregorio had said stuck in his mind. "There are still dons coming to deliver gold." That had surprised Diego.

He had purposely, with his father, planned for his coming with the gold from Los Angeles to be when everyone else had already donated, so he could see Verdugo with his gold already in his possession. Who else was coming? With a sigh, he started to the innkeeper. This afternoon he had to go back to the Verdugos.

"Pardon. Did anyone claim a room here this morning?"

"Si!" Agitation showed in the man's voice as he wiped the counter. Diego immediately raised an eyebrow.

"Who was it, if I may ask?"

"You may! In fact, I ask for your help. This person was not entirely trustworthy, and I have suspicions. But if I question her myself, she would think it very impertinent. But you, a handsome—"

Diego waved his hand to indicate that he understood the man's point. "It's a woman, then?"

A quick nod. Getting a slight sense of déjà vu, he continued, a gleam in his eye. "Beautiful?"

"Oh, exceedingly so. She matched even Senorita Verdugo." Anna Maria was said to be the most beautiful woman in Monterey, so this woman must truly be stunning.

"What exactly was strange about her?"

"First, she was dressed in a dark cloak, and under it, from what little glimpses I got, she wore a beautiful gown, very elegant, but a gown for fiestas, dancing, not traveling. Second, she had no belongings with her, or servants. She was very rich looking. What young, rich senorita travels alone, si? Oh, she tried to pass off on me that she had been robbed but she didn't fool me. She just had a horse. And she hesitated so long signing her name that I though it must be fake. She didn't give her first name, see? And I do not know of any Herreras." He showed Diego the book: _M. Herrera_ was written in excellent penmanship.

 _Well bred, this senorita_. "All right, I will investigate tonight. There is much I still have to do today."

The innkeeper nodded. "Si, muchas gracias!" And Diego went up the stairs to change back out of his riding outfit.

* * *

"Of course he wasn't!" Anna Maria's voice was the first he heard as he was shown into the _sala._ He saw that she was speaking to a man, and it wasn't her father, so he expected it to be Romero. But the man stood.

"Ricardo!" Was the outraged gasp that escaped from his lips.

"Oh, hello, Diego. Anna Maria said you might be returning. Well, have no fear. I will accompany the gold to the coast with the Verdugos." Ricardo's voice was deeper but still had the annoying intonations he'd used in his youth. Diego shook his hand as if in a trance.

"What about Romero?" He asked, propriety momentarily escaping him.

"Oh, I chased him out long ago!" Ricardo announced jovially. "You know, I'm surprised that you didn't know. Romero is—" He glanced at Anna Maria, who looked strangely flustered, and finished the sentence in a whisper. "He planned to steal the gold for himself."

"Oh, really?" Diego asked. "I can hardly believe it. He was such a charming gentleman. Can you believe such a thing, Senorita Verdugo? I mean, he was such a friend of yours!"

Anna Maria's eyes were angry as they met his, but then they faltered and returned to her lap. "We were all fooled." She snapped and Diego regretted his sarcastic words.

"Well, you are right, Ricardo. I need not worry if you are there."

"Oh!" Anna Maria's outburst surprised the two and they quickly jumped out of her way as she strode to the door and escaped.

"You know, she doesn't seem to like you, Diego," Ricardo said quietly.

"That's because she doesn't. Just as well." Diego smiled. "Never mind that. I will get the gold." He turned to go, then paused on the steps. "I never thought that the day would come when I was happy to see you!"

Ricardo's loud laughter followed him to his horse.

* * *

"And that's all there is to it," Diego explained to Bernardo. "I know that Ricardo is—well, you know. But he is no gold digger. His father leaves him a very handsome inheritance, and even if he wasn't, Ricardo has no real use for money. No, he gets his pleasures in laughter and jokes." He paused, then continued in a thoughtful voice. "I heard that the Governor is not in Monterey at the moment, so I won't be able to visit him. I called on Constancia and she wasn't receiving. I think, that after I call on Rosarita, we could go back." He raised an eyebrow. "Well, what do you think?"

Bernardo shrugged and made a series of signs in quick succession.

"You think it is very soon? Perhaps. But as I said, Ricardo is to be trusted. And I don't really like the feel of Monterey." He picked up his hat. "I'm off to see Rosarita. Care to come?"

Bernardo made a face and pointed to the bags. "You don't need to start packing already!" Diego exclaimed and, grabbing his friend's hat, deposited it on Bernardo's head and pulled him out the door.

* * *

Rosarita met him in delight. "Oh, Diego! How nice to see you! Come in, please!"

She was practically dancing as she walked, those were how light her steps were. "How are you? Is everything well in Los Angeles? And your father, is he well?"

Diego was surprised she didn't ask after Zorro but hid it well. "My father is very well. Los Angeles even better, and I am the best of all. I am the one visiting you."

She playfully swatted his arm. "You always were a charmer!" She exclaimed. "But you must not talk that way."

"Why not?"

"I am engaged to be married! Oh, and here is Mateo!"

A tall, thin man entered then, with very dark hair and solemn eyes. Rosarita stood up to go to his side.

"Buenos dias, eh, Mateo. I am Diego de la Vega."

"He is an old childhood friend of mine," Rosarita murmured to Mateo. "And Diego, this is Mateo del Arbol. We marry in the Spring."

"I wish you much happiness."

Rosarita beamed and she and Mateo spoke swiftly, and, bowing, he left again. Diego looked at her questioningly.

She had sat down again and gestured for him to do so as well. "He was just telling me that his mother is still not well." A slight cloud passed over her face. "They are new to Monterey. They came here from Santa Barbara so that his mother could be nearer to her sister Lucia. His mother is very ill. I have not actually met her yet, for as yet, she has been too weak for visits."

"Ah. So he was telling you this..."

"Oh, because I was to dine with them tonight, if her health permitted. It didn't," she concluded sadly. "I do so wish to meet her."

"Tell me about Mateo. For instance, is he like, oh, Zorro?" Diego couldn't help tossing that in, considering her parting words to him.

Rosarita flushed. "He is not Zorro, that I must admit. He is actually a bit like you. Oh, Diego, I must apologize! When I visited you in Los Angeles, I was terribly rude to you! It was only when I met Mateo that I realized that you can fight for a just cause without bearing a sword."

"And how did he bring about that realization?"

"With a sword, of all things!" She laughed aloud then sobered. "I mean, we first met when I was trying to make the Commandante see me. He had just arrested poor Angelica Modesto, who was so frail then."

"Was?"

"Let me continue, Diego. I saw one of his lancer's arresting her for misconduct. Diego, this woman is eighty years old! All she had done was block the way of the soldiers horses, just for a moment, as she walked across the road. Well, they carted her straight off to the jail! And I knew that if her daughter found out it could turn ugly. So I went to see him immediately. And he would not see me!"

"Very reprehensible of him."

"It was. Well, I was trying to force myself into the _cuartel_ when along walks Mateo with a request to see the Commandante and he was let in immediately! I took the chance and followed him, telling him the tale as we walked to the office. He has such dark eyes, Diego, you must have seen. Well, he just looked at me, and suddenly I felt very silly indeed. Getting angry wasn't going to solve anything, and I had been very angry in my messages to the Commandante." She sighed.

"It took him moments. Just some well phrased requests and he didn't have to pay bail or anything. He escorted Angelica home to her daughter, with me tagging along, and then he turned and looked at me. And he just pulled out his sword, for he did wear one, and said to me, 'What would have happened if I had gone in as you were wishing to, with my sword drawn and ready to strike?' And I said, 'You would have been arrested, maybe, or at the very least your requests would have been ignored as they kicked you out.' And he said, 'Yes. Remember that, my fierce senorita.' I was never so angry, Diego. He was so forward, and yes, I was grateful, but he had never met me before! He didn't know me and he couldn't censure me like that!" Rosarita paused a moment to draw breath. "I was very rude then and I vowed very sincerely that I hoped to never see him again. I did. That incident also involved a sword, but not his."

With the end of her tale, Diego considered the changes in Rosarita. She always been very brash, forthright, unafraid to speak her mind.

"All sorts of things happened, Diego, and I'm afraid several were humiliating. But Mateo, I realize, was worth all the humiliation." Now she was speaking her heart. "Oh, Diego, I'm just afraid I won't be patient enough to wait until Spring!"

Last he'd seen her, she was a girl. Now she was a woman.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note is that I am writing Alejandro with no knowledge that Diego is Zorro. He has decided to even stop hoping. A bit harsh, but it was simply the way it fit with the Sweet Face of Danger Alejandro, who is very frustrated with his son's cavalier manner, impatient with his reluctance and disappointed with his refusal to let the engagement be announced.
> 
> I enjoyed writing Ricardo and you can look to see more of him from me.
> 
> Other characters who I know I will write for are Lupita, Moneta from the Iron Box and Margarita, and lots more of Magdalena. There are just so many possibilities for her! This was just exploring one.


	12. Departures, Arrivals and Decisions

Part Twelve: Departures, Arrivals and Decisions

* * *

Magdalena paced her room all the morning, and into the afternoon. Now she was doubting her wisdom in vowing to not gain position as a maid. If she did plan to pass herself off as a maid, she shouldn't have changed her clothes, but she also recognized that she didn't want to be a maid again.

The evening came. Her stomach growled and she placed a hand to it. She had to go down, and get something to eat. She quickly adjusted her hair and hurried down the stairs, forgoing the cloak. She felt men's gazes as she descended the stairs, and knew she couldn't dine here. The innkeeper, upon spying her, started. He looked around him, frantically trying to find someone in the crowded room. He didn't seem to spy them, and, with a look of disappointment on his face, started to a waitress. Magdalena reached him before he did, and his face fell.

"Buenos noches, Senorita Herrera," he stumbled, his gaze darting around her, seemingly beseeching someone to appear. This angered her. _What on earth was wrong with the man?_

"May I have some dinner brought to my room?" She asked him rather stiffly.

"Uh, in your room, senorita?"

"Si, my room!"

"But senorita, what is wrong with down here?" He spread his hands wide.

"I just wish to dine alone."

"But there are so many handsome young dons in Monterey now! You might catch their eye, if you dine down here."

"I wish to dine alone. I will be waiting in my room," she said firmly, and made her way back up the stairs.

* * *

Diego came out of his room for dinner and hurried down the stairs to the innkeeper.

"Well, senor, where is the mysterious lady?" He asked.

"You just missed her!" He exclaimed. "She insisted on eating in her room! I tried to delay her, but," he shrugged.

"Do you think it is so urgent I must speak to her tonight?"

"I suppose not. You just enjoy your dinner." He walked swiftly away.

Diego shrugged and sat down. He planned to leave in the morning, and leave Monterey far behind him.

* * *

Magdalena decided while eating her dinner to leave the next morning, early. She had questioned the waitress who had brought the tray when the coach for Los Angeles would leave, and was told it was the next morning. She'd go to Los Angeles and tell her father the whole tale. He may not believe her, but he might still accept her again. She left the tray outside her door and painstakingly removed her dress. It looked like she'd be sleeping in a corset.

Living with Constancia, Dulce had always grudgingly helped her, as she would have helped Dulce, if Dulce wore a corset. But now there was no one. She supposed she could ask a maid, but felt reluctant to do so, and simply prepared for her early departure the next day, and slipped into bed.

She awoke early, and dressed as swiftly as possible, pulled the cloak tight and went downstairs. The innkeeper was there, and she approached him.

"The horse I came with, would you send him to the Viceroy's daughter, with, uh, Miranda's compliments?"

"Si." He paused. "You leave now?"

"Si, on the coach to Los Angeles."

"I wish you a good trip. Vaya con Dios."

"Gracias." She told him, and he smiled faintly as she slipped outdoors to wait for the coach.

* * *

"I just spoke with the innkeeper. The coach to Los Angeles left this morning. I was thinking we could ride to catch up with them; give the driver extra protection against banditos. Should we do that? You would gain company to travel with." Bernardo shrugged. "Well then, we will join up with them. Finish packing, so we can have time to do so."

Magdalena boarded the coach without incident. There were three other passengers—a mother and daughter called Juliana and Isabelle, and a man. None were very talkative; Magdalena only caught the mother and daughters' names from overhearing their conversation. The man seemed sullen, disappointed, as though he hadn't wished to leave Monterey.

Magdalena relaxed against the seat, trying to block out her surroundings. She kept her hands tightly clenched around the cloak's fastenings, and kept her face cast down, so the hood would not slip. They had been riding awhile when the coach slowly rolled to a stop; they were being hailed. Magdalena shrunk down in her seat, and listened carefully.

"Buenos dias!" The rider called. "If I may, I will ride alongside, me and my manservant, to give you extra protection, and gain companionship for ourselves." The voice was so familiar, but Magdalena barely dared to believe her ears. She leaned forward to look through the window and jumped back as though burned. Diego de la Vega was outside, astride Torcedor, unless she was much mistaken.

"Si, I will accept your offer, and gladly!" The driver told Diego."Gracias."

"No, no, my thanks to you. I do not like traveling alone." Diego returned. The coach resumed its steady pace. Magdalena's heart seemed to beat twice as fast. It was thumping so frantically she pressed her hand to her chest to try and still it. Oh, she couldn't let Diego see her! She had no idea what she 'knew' of her current circumstances. He may think very harshly of her.

She felt sudden anger at the thought that he might. Why should he? Did he know what she had done? Did he know any of the whys? She needed to think this through. The coach made a few stops, to change horses. That was when the passengers had the opportunity to relieve themselves or eat. If she kept her head down at those times, Diego wouldn't recognize her. She might be a bit conspicuous in the cloak; more so if he caught a glimpse of the dress beneath it, but he would surely be too discreet to actively force her to reveal herself, and if he asked questions she could feign modesty, and shyness, and refuse to answer them. But young senoritas still didn't travel alone. _Oh, curses!_ As long as Diego minded his own business, she would be fine, she finally deduced, and tried to stop her thoughts from returning to the subject.

* * *

The hours crawled by. There were two thankfully uneventful stops. Her fellow passengers remained silent. Diego spoke no more. You could hear the light clip-clop of Torcedor's hooves, but her rider remained silent. The coach rattled on, until it stopped for the night at a mission.

"There is no inn close by," the driver explained as he helped them out. "But there is no need for distress. The monks expect us. I always stop here." The padre was an older man, Padre Ramon. He came to greet them. "Come to the kitchen, you must be starved! There is a hot meal for you."

Diego was still by the horses. Magdalena walked past without his noticing her, and followed Padre Ramon as he led them to the kitchen. They passed a few monks on their way, who lowered their heads and stood still as they waited for them to pass. When they reached the kitchen, Diego had still not joined them. He must be tending to his horses, Magdalena thought. There was tea, beans with meat, rice and oranges. The oranges were sweet, but not quite as good as Inez's. Magdalena ate as swiftly as manners would allow, and finished just as Diego entered with Bernardo. He ducked his head to come through the doorway, and smiled as Padre Ramon greeted him. A servant had come to clear away the things, and that distracted her, and she missed Diego's quiet conversation with the Padre. Noticing she was done, Padre Ramon sent a servant bearing a candle with Magdalena to her room for the night.

The women's quarters were far away from the men's. Magdalena undressed quickly, wanting to be done before she was joined by Juliana and Isabelle. She was indeed in bed by the time they entered, and easily blocked out their quiet conversation, as tired as she was. They would be leaving early tomorrow. She slept uneasily, waking long before dawn, and taking care of all her needs before her companions awoke. She pulled the cloak on, but left the hood down, at least for a while. The sky got lighter. She heard the monks praying the Angelus. It was six o'clock. They were leaving at seven.

She left the room and made her way to the kitchen, happy that she could recall the way. When she got there, though, she pulled up short. Diego stood there, talking with the coach driver, Lopez was his name. Diego wore a light brown suit, and his tie was not on; it hung in his hand. His shirt was unbuttoned low enough to reveal a small patch of hair. Magdalena felt her cheeks grow warm watching him.

Lopez was speaking of the possible bandito attack, planning strategies with Diego. Lopez was a short, talkative man, friendly and kind. Diego's manner seemed very soft; he wasn't on guard at all. The conversation veered to past banditos.

"The most memorable one I ever encountered was a single man, but he was a crack shot, and never missed. I carried three rich passengers, whose own carriage had been derailed. This bandito came riding down from the hills, all in gray, his face covered. He shot, just once, and it cut the reins, tearing them from my hands. I pulled the brake and the horses stopped. I sat and waited for him, quaking in my boots. He rode right up and ordered the passengers out. It was a family, with a daughter. He leaned down and she took his hand and joined him on the horse, apologizing to her parents, but, I love him! she cried. They were away in a flash. We couldn't pursue them. I had to mend the reins. Her parents were furious, disowning her, but I was rejoicing. She was brave, to follow her heart like that. If I had children. I'd want them to be just like that bandito and his love. They knew what they wanted, and they took it." He smiled just thinking of it.

Diego was also smiling. "Such freedom must have felt wonderful to them. I wish I could feel such liberty."

"You are young, rich and handsome! What can you not do? What does your life lack?" Lopez exclaimed.

Diego shrugged. "I have many responsibilities; that is all. Sometimes I wish to be free of them."

But then Juliana and Isabelle came up behind Magdalena, looking taken aback to find her lurking in the hallway. She stepped back to let them go in front of her, listening for a moment as Lopez and Diego took their leave. She then walked in to breakfast, avoiding her companion's curious gazes. She left the hood down, keeping a sharp watch for Diego. He didn't reenter the kitchen. She raised her hood and kept her face downcast as she walked to the coach. The driver helped her in, then Juliana and Isabelle, and soon came the man, looking disheveled and sleepy still.

Diego came walking out, and though he looked thoughtful as he spoke with Padre Ramon, there was a swing in his step. He had put his tie on. He looked very handsome, and while as he continued to speak with the Padre a crease grew in his brow, he remained happy. She smiled and leaned back in her seat, pleased to see him no longer so tense as he had been in Los Angeles. Life must be going well for him. That was very good news for her.

The coach started, and Magdalena sighed. Even as happy as Diego was, she didn't dare approach him. Who knew how he would react to seeing her? Hatred from him would be agonizing but indifference even worse. What if he didn't even care? Didn't remember? What if those days had held no significance to him? They rode on. The man got off, and wasn't replaced. Magdalena fingered her purse, suddenly doubting the wisdom in going to Los Angeles. Her father wouldn't expect her. He might not even acknowledge her. Oh, she hoped he would believe her tale. The coach stopped suddenly, and Magdalena jounced forward, almost falling off her seat.

The driver came around and opened the door. "This is not a planned stop, but there are rumors of banditos up ahead—a man rode to warn us. I think it is best to stop for the night; there is an inn here. We'll start again tomorrow." A cautious feeling fell over the group. Diego wasn't smiling as he and Bernardo dismounted. Magdalena only briefly touched Lopez's hand as he helped her down. She didn't want to go to Los Angeles. She decided to steal away in the night, and try to buy a horse. She would ride somewhere, anywhere, but not Los Angeles.

"This place is known for the banditos that haunt it," Lopez told Diego as he led Torcedor and Ocaso, Bernardo's horse, to the stables.

Lopez had an anxious look on his face as he watched Diego tend the horses. "It is most interesting, that you do this yourself, and sent your manservant on ahead to eat."

Diego shrugged. "Bernardo tended the horses last night, when I went ahead. We split the chores. It makes it easier on both of us."

Lopez smiled. "I wish I worked for you. Oh, but I need to speak with you. If we are visited by banditos in the night, it won't be the first time this inn has been held up. I want to keep watch. Will you help me?" He looked very uneasy, and his tone was pleading.

"Of course I will." Diego assured him, clapping him on the shoulder; he had finished with the horses, and now they started back to the inn. Lopez showed Diego the inn's layout, and he concentrated for a moment, thinking out positions. "And so will Bernardo. I will guard the staircase, you will watch the back entrance and Bernardo will be at the side, in the storeroom."

Lopez nodded eagerly. "Gracias, muchas gracias. Buenos noches. Let us pray no one comes, eh?"

"Buenos noches. And we certainly will." Diego told him. Lopez hurried off through the door to the back entrance. Bernardo looked questioningly at Diego. "I know you wanted to sleep, but this is more important. Lopez is a good man. It would not do for his passengers to be held up, especially when they are all women." Bernardo signed quickly and Diego responded.

"Of course the one in the black cloak is a woman. Can't you tell? No man has a figure like that." Bernardo signed again.

Diego flushed slightly. "You thought the cloak covered her too well? I confess to have given her extra watching. What? She was mysterious!" Bernardo didn't believe his master and Diego laughed softly. "Well, maybe the mystery was not the only thing that attracted me to her."

Bernardo made an hourglass with his hands and Diego shoved him. "You go on. We have work to do, and it doesn't involve Zorro." Bernardo hurried off to the store room, and Diego was left alone in the tavern. He made his way up the stairs to the landing. There was a small alcove there, which he slipped into. Someone coming up or down wouldn't see him until it was too late. It was the perfect hiding place. _Now I just have to make sure I don't fall asleep._

* * *

The clock downstairs struck two. Magdalena stood up and crept to the door, turning the knob slowly, inching the door open as she did. All was silent now the cloak had stopped striking. Magdalena slipped through the opening and closed the door behind her. She started, very slowly, to the stairs, and tiptoed down them, taking time on each step to pause and listen for any sounds. She stepped lightly, so they wouldn't creak. She had almost reached the landing when she heard the smallest sound, just an exhalation of breath, but she stopped immediately, feeling glued to the step. There were no more sounds. She started down again.

Diego remained awake and thankfully alert, not dozing even once during the night. It was just after two when he heard very soft footsteps on the stairs, and he immediately shrunk back farther into the alcove, pressing himself tight against the wall. The footsteps were going down. He waited with baited breath, cursing himself when he let out a breath too loudly. The footsteps stopped, for a very long moment. Diego closed his eyes and concentrated. The footsteps started again. A dark figure swept past him, and he reached out to grab it's arm.

A sound that could only be described as a yelp came from the figure, and it jerked away from his grasp, suddenly running so swiftly it appeared to float down the rest of the stairs. Diego immediately pursued it, going from his hiding place the instant he had lost his grip on it. The figure had reached the bottom of the stairs. Diego vaulted over the railing to up, but it still darted past. With his right hand, he grabbed it's right arm almost violently, and the figure, with a gasp, swung around to face him. The hood had fallen with the sudden motion, and Diego found himself looking at the face of Magdalena Montes.

Emotions from those two days spent with her came flooding into him, overriding all sense. Without thinking at all, Diego pulled her closed and lowered his mouth to hers.

The first touch of her lips was like fire burning through him; the second like wine. He kissed her deeply, letting all sorts of emotions pervade the kiss, from anger to deep, deep longing for her.

The smallest sigh, almost a moan, came from her and her fingertips came to rest gently on his cheeks. The kiss gentled and Diego felt startlingly secure in her embrace.

He pulled away slowly, regretfully, resting his forehead on hers. Her breath was coming quickly, as was his. His heartbeat was frenetic, and didn't seem to want to slow.

Then memories came crashing in, of Francisco's stumbling sentence explaining where she had gone, and what she had done, and who with.  
 _"Magdalena, my Magdalene, she has…eloped…with a…a man. I—that is—she had led me to believe she meant to—well, you must have heard the rumors! She made me think she would settle down and now she tells me she is marrying a strange man. And she gives no direction, gives me no way to follow her, and prevent her from this tragic mistake."_  
Random words from it tumbled through Diego's mind, _eloped, a man, rumors, marrying, strange, no directions, tragic mistake._ Diego pulled away. The moment ended.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the easy way out in Monterey, because I did first intend for Magdalena to see Diego while still there. But then the plot took a different direction and I decided that Monterey should just play a minor part for Diego.


	13. Comprehension

Part Thirteen: Comprehension

* * *

 

Magdalena's head was spinning, and her breath came in gasps. When he'd first grabbed her arm, it had been like on of her nightmares, terrifying her, until she caught one glimpse of his face, and realized it was Diego. Then she had felt scared for an entirely different reason, and desperation had made her feet fly. But Diego had caught her, in more ways than one, and his face when he'd encountered hers was burned in her memory forever. There had been no hatred, or disgust. There had been longing. And then he had kissed her, oh! he had kissed her.

Then she felt Diego pulling away; his posture was suddenly rigid as he straightened from their embrace. "I am sorry, Senora. I truly do not know what came over me."

 _…Senora?_ _Senora? Curses!_ Diego was pressing a hand to his forehead. He seemed to not know what to do. He turned away, and she grabbed his sleeve at the last second. "No, no, Diego, I am not married."

He laughed, a quiet, bitter sound. "That doesn't make any difference. I—have you been on the coach all along?" He turned back to face her, waving his hands aggressively to punctuate his words.

She nodded, and he groaned in exasperation. "Then you were the lady the innkeeper in Monterey was wary of!"

How that had to do with the subject at hand confused her, but she nodded again, and opened her mouth to speak.

"No, don't say anything." Diego said, cutting her off swiftly. "If you speak, you'll have too much power over me, which I'm sure delights you."

"What—why would you say that? I—"

Diego shook his head violently. "You know what you are, Magdalena."

"Oh? And what exactly is that?"

He paused a moment, choosing his words. "Firstly, you are a traitor to the King."

"Oh, that is obviously what is paramount here," Magdalena snapped.

"And you left Los Angeles the first moment you could to marry—"

"I was kidnapped! I wouldn't have willingly left you."

"Who do you expect to believe that? You are a selfish girl. How easy was it for them to convince you to carry feathers that bear the death penalty?"

"The only feather I ever carried with the death signal was the one which you cut!"

" Si, I did cut it!" He hissed back. "And right now," his voice got lower and stronger with each word, "I am wondering why I bothered to pursue you. You obviously haven't changed. I should have let Galindo have his way with you."

"It wasn't Galindo, it was you!" Tears came pouring down her cheeks, and she felt as though she had been stabbed in the heart repeatedly, each stab more painful than the next. "And I cannot believe you really think that?"

"Just go back to your room!" He pointed wildly, his hand shaking.

Anger choked her throat and she turned to go, trying to make herself walk at a steady, haughty pace, but soon gave up and ran back as fast as she could, stumbling once on the stairs because of her anger-blurred vision. Her knee screamed in agony and it was hard to get up again.

* * *

Diego stared after Magdalena, only realizing after she had gone what he had just done. He walked to the stairs, and sat on the third step up, placing his head in his hands. Bernardo and Lopez were coming in, to investigate the noise. Diego couldn't answer their questions; he only rubbed his face and tried to make sense of what had just happened.

He had had her in his embrace, the one woman he had met who truly moved him, and he had, like the fool he now knew he was, had let her—no, made her!—leave him.  
Her words echoed. _"No, no, Diego, I am not married…I was kidnapped…I wouldn't have willingly left you."_

His mind was swirling and his eyes were hurting. His shoulders shook, just a bit, as tremors moved through his body. Lopez had given up and gone back to his post, but Bernardo was frantically trying to get Diego to speak to him.

Diego forced his body to stop shaking, and stood up, turning to gaze up the stairs. his eyes fell to the step where Magdalena had fallen. Resolution set in. He had to talk to her, apologize, tell her…tell her…

He ran up the stairs to the door she had entered, pausing outside for a moment, composing himself, trying to think of what to say. He knocked. Waited. He opened the door. Magdalena wasn't there, and the window was open. He ran across the room and thrust his head through it. He saw no figure. This was bandito country, what if she was captured? He jerked his head back through too quickly, and banged the top of his head. He saw stars.

Wincing, he made his way back down to Bernardo, who jumped to attention at the sight of him. "I need to—" but then the door burst open and in came a gang of five banditos. "Put down all weapons, senor!"

He turned around slowly, as comprehension dawned as to what was happening. "I have no weapons," he said quickly. "Nor gold."

"As if we'd believe that," the leader scoffed. He had the look of an established bandito, one who could have even had his own title. Diego's mind whirled, trying to think of any bandito bands that matched this description—four men, all on the short side, but very well muscled. All had dark hair, but their facial compositions were all different, so that ruled out the possibility of their being brothers.

With his gun, the leader gestured towards the stairs. "Cerdo! Search the upstairs and bring down any guests you find."

With a jump, the shortest one hurried to the stairs and charged up them. With that, Lopez stumbled in, with another bandito who had a gun at the man's back. Lopez was shoved to join Bernardo and Diego where they stood at the bottom of the staircase.

Diego flinched as the man sent upstairs whooped, and in moments Juliana and Isabelle were stumbling down the stairs, wide eyed and scared. Cerdo halted their progress before they reached the men, and they stood awkwardly, not daring to move, as he went back upstairs and searched the other rooms. Diego felt a bit of satisfaction that he couldn't find Magdalena either, or any of the money. He was glad he'd left it with the horses.

 _La palabrota! I left the weapons with Torcedor too._ Not that he could get to them now anyway.

Cerdo rejoined his companions, and then there were five banditos facing the guests. "I didn't find anything. No money or even jewels in the senorita's room."

The leader frowned. "That is not right. Look at him, he is a rich man!" He jerked his gun at Diego and Diego began to hatch a plan. "Of course he has gold!"

"Not with me here, senor," Diego interrupted, and with narrowed eyes, the leader turned to face Diego. "I come back from Monterey, where I delivered my pueblo's pledge of gold to Senor Verdugo."

"Bah, Verdugo! He is the biggest fool this side of the coast!" The leader spat. "I have no patience for him, or anyone who holds with him."

Diego halted, rethinking things. _I cannot spin a tale of hidden gold, for not only did I just earn his scorn, but he is too smart to believe anything I tell him. What now?_

* * *

The jump was a bit daunting, but Magdalena made it, clinging to the windowsill until the last moment, and then just dropping to the ground. She paused a moment, to get her breath back, and to decide where to go. But then she heard shouts, and froze. She edged up to a window and peeked in. There were banditos there, holding up Diego and Bernardo, and the banditos were searching the inn, and soon Diego and Bernardo were joined by Lopez, Juliana and Isabelle. The two women looked terrified.

It was Isabelle's look of terror that decided Magdalena. The young girl tried to hide behind her mother; but Isabelle was at least twelve, and tall for her age. Her mother was a very petite woman, and served as a poor shield. Diego was glancing towards them in frustration, obviously wanting to shield the two himself, but not daring to move.

One of the banditos was glancing repeatedly towards Juliana and Isabelle. She felt deep disgust at the look on his face. But she had no gun, no weapon of any kind. Just herself and her money, and one she would never offer, the other they wouldn't accept.

The bandito sent to search returned empty handed. Diego spoke to the leader, and Magdalena strained to hear the words exchanged. She flinched when he spat on the ground, and leaned back against the wall, thinking desperately.

Inspiration struck and Magdalena ran to the stables, to Torcedor's saddle bag. Oh, she had been right! This saddle bag held the whole Zorro ensemble, with his sword and two loaded guns. _Oh! Will it work? It might be too much to risk. Diego won't appreciate it._

 _But who cares what he says?_ Hissed a sly voice. _Especially considering how badly he already thinks of you._

She shook her head slightly as she rummaged through the bag. _That kiss was not one of disgust. Whatever things he said to me that he felt, they can't be all he felt._

A different opinion shot into her mind. _As wary as he was of you the first day you met, attraction still ruled him. You don't know how much he was influenced by that just now. For all you know, he was just spewing lies so that you couldn't convince him of anything otherwise._

* * *

Diego caught Bernardo's gaze, and the man's hands moved in lightning fast motion. _The curtains? No, the senorita's dress? What in the world is he trying to say?_ _  
_

Bernardo, seeing that his master did not comprehend, tried to sign something else. The banditos were quietly debating their own plot and were turned away from their hostages, except for the two who pointed their guns at the group, but they had almost bored expressions on their faces, and one even covered a yawn while he waited for his compadres to decide on something. Lopez edged closer to Diego. "Do you think, if we tackle them, we could make it?" The coach driver whispered, and Diego shook his head.

"We'd need something beyond that," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "Some sort of trick to distract them."

"Hey, Culebra, make them stop that muttering!" The leader ordered, and Diego found himself the sole target of 'Culebra's' gun. He gave a half smile and sighed. Culebra was a tall, thin man, with an angular face, but sharp eyes that now followed Diego's every movement.

Bernardo moved slightly and again tried his signing. _The window. The window!_ The mute's hands moved in an hourglass motion, but Culebra caught it, and moved the gun so that it was solidly on Bernardo, and the signs abruptly ceased.

Diego turned looked toward the window. Had Bernardo seen something? And then he saw it too—the flutter of a dress. _Magdalena._

* * *

She took the whole bag with her as she hurried back to the window. _What should I take? Just the weapons?_

Yet another voice in her head spoke, this time a voice of practicality. _You'll need a way of carrying them. There are two guns and a sword. Tie the sword around your waist and hold both guns. And it wouldn't hurt to improve your look. Fix your hair._

She gathered it back up, as best she could, and pinned it into place. _What should I use to tie the sword on? The sash from his Zorro costume? No, I couldn't do that._

With shaking hands, she pulled one stocking off and used it as a sash. It was dark. Surely no one would be able to tell. Now what? Just barge in, use the element of surprise to her advantage and hold them up as they were holding up the other travelers?

She cast the cloak off, took guns firmly in both hands and squared her shoulders. _It's time to go in!_ She walked stealthily to the door, pressing her ear against it to make certain the banditos hadn't moved. She heard muttering, then one spoke. "Senor, we don't believe that you have nothing of value, so empty your pockets."

* * *

Diego sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, and what he found there surprised him. _Where did I get this?_ he wondered, considering the shape of the item.

With frustration, the leader stepped up, and withdrew his sword from its scabbard. Diego tensed up as he found himself at the end of a sword point. "I don't trust you. Now take your hands out of your pockets."

"Why should I?"

"Because otherwise I'll run you through."

"I don't fear death."

"Maybe you'll fear for you companions then. Bajista!" The burliest bandito jumped to attention, and at the leader's signal, raced forward to grab Isabelle.

"No!" Juliana choked out, but her daughter was ripped from her arms, and Cerdo came forward to drag away Bernardo also.

"I took a senorita, and your companion, senor. Which one's death will influence you more?"

"I rather expect it would be yours," drawled a voice from the doorway, and everyone turned around in surprise, even Culebra.

* * *

Magdalena stepped through the door behind the banditos. "Now all of you, put your hands up or one of you will be short of a life," Magdalena's voice was whip sharp. The five men froze. "Now!"

Their hands went up. Magdalena edged around them, so she was between the two opposing groups, keeping both guns pointed steadily at the men, and refusing to meet Diego's gaze. "Both of these guns are loaded. I will not hesitate to shoot one of you. Release the senorita and the servant and take off your weapons."

Bernardo was shoved away and he stumbled as he went back across the room. Isabelle's captor released her more slowly, and she ran as fast as she could to reach her mother. The banditos slowly, reluctantly, laid their weapons down, untying their gun belts and letting them all to the floor with a thump. She caught one of the men fingering his knife and jerked one gun to point at him. "Drop. The. Knife, senor."

It fell. Magdalena reached one arm behind her holding a gun and it was taken. Diego was suddenly at her side. Now that one hand was free, Magdalena drew the sword from its sheath. "I believe you can wield this better than I." She told him, not once glancing at him as she passed it to him.

His hand closed over hers on the hilt as he took it, obviously intentionally, and her body gave an involuntary tremor.

Diego took charge now, and Bernardo came for the other gun. Magdalena slipped behind the two as they ordered the banditos from the inn, waiting until the sound of the hoof-beats from five horses faded away. Juliana clung to her daughter and Lopez was trying to thank Magdalena. She stepped past him, untying the scarf and dropping the sheath. Diego looked up and he watched her pass him. "Wait." It was a plea.

She turned her head to look at him, feeling the pain still in her heart and finding it difficult to speak. "Do not mistake me, senor. This meant nothing." Then she stepped over the guns lying in the doorway and ran out into the night.

* * *

It was Zorro who caught up to her, astride Torcedor, and looking too good to be true. Her shoes were not made for walking in, and her feet already had numerous blisters. He didn't speak as he leaned down to scoop her up, placing her firmly in front of him in the saddle. His arm was loose around her waist, perfunctory. She stayed stiff against him, not allowing herself to relax for a moment. They reached the inn. Zorro jumped off, then turned to help her down. He held her hand for a moment too long, just looking at it, while she considered just jumping off onto him. Then his hands came to her waist and he pulled her down into his arms, holding her tight against him.

"There are many things I need to tell you that simply cannot be said tonight. Please come along to Los Angeles so I may speak of them to you at a better time."

Magdalena moved out of his embrace, folding her arms over her chest in a shiver, wishing she'd thought to bring her cloak. She considered the fragility of life, and its preciousness. You only had one life to live. Once a moment was gone, you would never get it back, and choices once made are hard to reverse. She'd go to Los Angeles, but beyond that…she couldn't make any promises as to whether she'd be willing to listen to Diego.

"I will go,' she said softly, "but I do not promise anything else." She pulled away, running back to her room at the inn.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't like it when the fact that Diego is Zorro becomes this huge point of contention in stories. She guessed. He guessed that she guessed in chapter 7. And now they both have solid proof.
> 
> If there's no denying it, what more is there to say? Okay, there's still more to say, but Diego won't broach the subject until he has thought the matter over.


	14. Love and Life

Part Fourteen: Love and Life

* * *

 

They reached Los Angeles in good time, having no more problems or delays after the unplanned stop at the inn. Sergeant Garcia waited to inspect the coach and inquire from each passenger their reason for being in Los Angeles. He looked surprised and pleased to see Diego accompanying the coach.

"Don Diego! Back so soon? Of course, I only just got back myself," His chest puffed with pride. "I did an honorable job of delivering the gold to you, eh, Don Diego?"

"You did indeed. How are you, Sergeant? It is good to see you again."

"But you are back so soon! You gave the indication you needed to stay in Monterey some time yet. Your father will be pleased to have you."

"Will he?" Diego asked as he dismounted. His tone was doubtful. "An old friend took charge of the gold and I came home straight away. Monterey was very fatiguing for me."

Garcia frowned at Diego's choice of words but, of course, did not say anything. "I must admit, it was very tiring for me, too. I am not cut out for such long riding. I am meant for sprints onto the battlefield, I was born to—"

"Of course, Sergeant," Diego agreed, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

Then Garcia spotted Magdalena as she descended from the coach and his smile widened as he hurried to greet her. "Senorita Montes! You have finally returned from nursing your aunt!"

"She was my father's cousin, not my aunt, but, si, I am."

"Your return will bring much excitement to our little pueblo. Are there any fiestas planned?"

"I haven't seen my father yet," Magdalena told him, "so I do not know."

"Well, if I know Don Francisco, and I do know Don Francisco, there will be a party. You must invite me. Your aunt has been teaching me how to dance. I am rather good now."

"That is wonderful, Sergeant. I will be sure to remember."

"Si." He returned delightedly, and then moved on to Juliana and Isabelle. The two had whispered thanks to Magdalena but returned to their silence after that. Because Magdalena could tell they were reticent because of timidity, and shyness, she was not insulted by their continued silence, and smiled goodbye to them. Isabelle gave a little wave, which Magdalena returned.

She walked away from the coach. Diego followed. She tried her best to ignore him as she walked to the blacksmith's, intending to rent a horse there on which to ride home. Diego followed close behind her, and sighed in amused exasperation at her intended destination.

"You do not need to get a horse here, Senorita," he said, quickening his pace to walk backwards in front of her.

She ignored him and continued on. A swarthy man came to greet her.

"I would like to rent a horse, por favor," she told him.

"Of course. The usual rate is—"

"Your best horse. Put it on my bill, Salvio," Diego said softly.

"Of course, Don Diego," he agreed.

Magdalena opened her mouth to protest but then Diego's hand came to rest on her shoulder and it shocked her into saying nothing.

A horse was brought out, led by the blacksmith's son who then held out his hand to help her on. "Go on, Eugenio," Diego told him. With just one look from Don Diego, he stepped back away from her.

Furious, Magdalena turned to tell him to come back and help her on, never mind Don Diego, but hands were around her waist and she was on the horse. "He is called Hierro," Eugenio told her. "A very fast, strong horse. You need not be gentle."

"Gracias," Magdalena told him, and he slipped away. Diego hadn't thought his plan through, though. Magdalena chirruped and galloped away, leaving him in the dust of the blacksmith's yard.

* * *

Magdalena hadn't though it through either, realizing her mistake once on the outskirts of the pueblo, and at a loss as to which way she should turn. With the curse of bad luck, no one else was around, as it was time for most to be having their afternoon siestas. She turned Hierro and rode back a bit, to where a little boy played.

"Por favor, how do you get to the Montes rancho?"

"Not by boat," was his lazy answer.

Magdalena let out a reluctant laugh. "I can guess that. Which way do you turn?"

"Don't turn into a tortuga and you'll be fine," he said, and then dashed away upon spying a raggedy dog in the distance. Two riders were coming towards Magdalena—Diego and Bernardo.

A curse choked in her throat, and she couldn't stand the thought of the look of amusement that would be on Diego's face. She turned and galloped away, as fast as Hierro would go, which meant she was almost flying. She leaned down low by Hierro's neck. The wind caught her hair. She'd only tied it with a ribbon this morning, and the ribbon blew away. Her cloak she had left on the coach, she realized with a sudden jolt. Oh well. She didn't need it.

The orange dress rippled in the wind, riding up slightly, and she stood in the stirrups and yelled with joy, feeling absolutely free and wild. She would be civilized when she reunited with her father, but now she wanted one last taste of the wild, daring sort of excitement that had urged her to join with the Eagle in the first place.

Her laughter hung behind her, caught by the wind. She rode swiftly, with no sense of where she was going, and that was how she ended up at _'one of our better sights.'_ It was the lake. Magdalena dismounted quickly, and walked down to the water, holding her dress up and stepping in. The water was cool, and very refreshing. She went in deeper, to her knees, then just stood there, closing her eyes and listening to the water. And the hoof beats.

She walked from the water and back to Hierro. Diego, on Torcedor, was now there, waiting for her. She refused to put her shoes on with him watching, and simply walked to Hierro and, with determination and stubbornness, struggled up onto his back. Diego had started to dismount to help her, but had noticed the look on her face, and settled back in the saddle, watching her.

"Are you meaning to go to your hacienda now?" Diego asked.

"I am."

"Just follow my lead." He started off with a light canter. Magdalena easily kept his pace but didn't speak.

Her father's hacienda finally rose in the distance. Magdalena's heart leapt in her throat at the sight of it, and she increased her speed, passing Diego.

They reached the hacienda and she jumped off Hierro and ran through the gate. Her father was on the patio, and he looked up as she ran in. A look of shock came over his face, and it was only then she realized how she must look.

Her orange dress from Captain Criado, a dress meant for fiestas, and dancing, was not so fine anymore, after wearing it all the way from Monterey, and her wild ride and sojourn into the lake just not certainly hadn't helped anything. The dress was covered in dust, and so was Magdalena, the hem was muddy and she had no shoes. Her hair was tangled and hung down her back wildly.

But her father was standing, and rushing to her, and pulling her into his arms. The embrace was firm and Francisco just kept whispering her name as he held her. "You have returned."

"Si. And that letter was not from me, please believe me when I say I did not write a word of it."

"I know," he said solemnly. "Your maid confessed to being bribed to deliver it and say that you had given it to her. But then where were you? It was too late by the time she confessed, and I had no idea where to look."

"First I was in a carriage, heading to San Pedro. I was bound and gagged. Then a ship, and Mexico City was its destination. There I was taken to the Viceroy. He had ordered my kidnapping because he feared for my safety and wanted me under his protection. The past nine months I have served as maid to his daughter Constancia."

"Maid? How dare they!"

"It was fine, father. Considering what I had done, it was an easy penance."

"Oh, what did you do? Deliver a few feathers you never knew the meaning of? You were foolish, _mi querido_ , not wicked."

She just shook her head.

"You should wash," he announced, pulling away. "All your clothes wait upstairs. Oh, I have prayed for this day. Monique!" He called, and a servant girl came running. "Have some water start heating, for a bath. Take the tub to Magdalena's room."

"Si, Don Francisco." She looked curiously at Magdalena before she hurried away.  
It was only when they had walked upstairs that Magdalena realized Diego hadn't joined her, and that Hierro was gone, presumably back to the blacksmith's.

* * *

There was indeed a fiesta, but it came only after Magdalena and her father had spent weeks together, glorious weeks of riding together, telling each other all the little things about their separate lives, and simply being together in the same room. He would be doing work in his study, and Magdalena would sit in an armchair in the background, reading or sewing as he ran his rancho.

Her father seemed to be getting healthier, stronger. He laughed loudly and often. And one day he proposed the idea of a fiesta at their hacienda, inviting everyone to come. Magdalena would be the hostess.

She accepted right away, diving into the planning of it, frequently consulting Inez, who came over often to spend time with her niece.

The night came. Magdalena dressed in a rose colored gown, with a full, sweeping skirt, a wide neckline that showed her shoulders, a cinched waist, and loose sleeves that swayed when she walked.

Magdalena was a joyful hostess, trying to talk with everyone and still have time for dancing. Her laughter and smile lit the whole patio, as she discreetly watched the gate, waiting for the de la Vegas to arrive. She hadn't seen Diego anywhere besides Mass since he had escorted her to the hacienda, and was a bit worried. Many other young caballeros came calling, all jostling for position. Even though she was still rather angry with Diego, she never encouraged her suitors, and always made it clear her heart belonged to another, which disappointed them, yes, but she felt it was much better to disappoint them now then betray them later when she ultimately chose Diego. But would Diego still choose her? She kept watching the gate.

Alejandro came. Diego didn't. She hurried to greet him, and he smiled broadly. "You host an excellent fiesta, Magdalena."

"Gracias. But where is Diego?" She tried to keep her tone steady, cursing herself for pushing him away on her first day here again, and avoiding him since.

"He pleaded a headache. I tried my best to make him come but he refused to leave his room." Alejandro's voice showed the exasperation he felt towards his son.

Magdalena smiled graciously. "Maybe he truly did not feel well."

The evening from then on, though she never let it show, fell flat for her. She continued being the perfect hostess: applauding Garcia and Inez's dancing, listening to even the dullest anecdotes the older guests told, danced with everyone she could—even Juan Fernando de la Cruz, though she kept on her toes during that dance.

She made sure to frequently rejoin Francisco, just for a few moments, to squeeze his hand and reassure herself he wasn't tiring. To be truthful, Magdalena was tiring herself, but didn't let it show, not wanting anything to spoil this for her father, who was so happy at her return and so loving and so wonderful.

The fiesta lasted long into the night. Indeed, it was morning by the time the last guests left, their goodbyes hanging in the air after them. It had been a smashing success. Magdalena let her father kiss her goodnight and hurried up the stairs to her room. Oh, she adored being home.

With details of the evening hanging in her head, Magdalena closed the door behind her and unfastened her necklace. With a sigh, she walked across the room to the balcony and stepped out, breathing in the night air. A sudden voice cut through the darkness.

"Buenos noches, Senorita Montes."

She turned around to find Zorro stepping out from behind the curtains in her room.

He tipped his head at her surprise. "I told you I had things to say, and I felt that this evening it was more important that Zorro speak to you than Diego. Apologies for not coming earlier but I had things to do."

She laughed, a rather choked sound. "Do not fret; my guests might have been rather startled by your appearance at my fiesta. It is probably best you did not go."

"You're right, at that," he shifted slightly, and she noticed that he was favoring his right arm.

"Are you all right?" She asked, nodding to his arm.

"Fine, fine. Don't think about my arm at a time like this, por favor."

"What should I think about?"

"Apologies. Remorse. I was angry that night."

"Which night?"

"Both." The word hung in the air. Zorro looked down, then back up. "I said things I didn't mean, and shouldn't have said in the first place. I really did not mean any of them. Magdalena, I didn't expect you to return that night." His tone was very serious. "When you came in with the guns and my sword, I realized how wrong I was about everything. I knew there was no room in Zorro's life for women, but you proved me wrong. I wanted so much to tell you that night but one look at your face when I caught up with you made me realize I couldn't. I hurt you deeply, twice. Forgive me."

"I have already. I've been cursing myself for pushing you that first day. I thought you were angry with me and that was why you didn't come."

"Not angry. Just busy." He got off the windowsill and winced.

"What happened?" She asked him.

"I was busy getting reacquainted with all the situations in Los Angeles," he said, his tone warning her not to ask more.

She nodded, getting up courage to say her next words. "Where do…we…go from here on?"

"Onward." He whispered, and then he slipped past her to jump over the edge of the balcony. For a moment he clung there, looking at her, then a queer smile came onto his face. "Life is odd, isn't it?" He inquired softly, and she nodded.

"I can think of nothing more strange," she returned, and he looked down at the ground, in consideration.

"It's not too late to go for a ride," he said softly. But Magdalena shook her head, a wide smile on her face.

"Come back tomorrow, as Diego. I'd rather ride with him, if you don't mind."

Zorro tipped his head, and in a few swift movements he was on his black horse. "Buenos noches." He called.

She waved as she watched him go.

* * *

Diego came early the next day, in a riding outfit. Magdalena was still in bed when Monique told her, and tried to get dressed twice as fast as she normally would, and instead was twice as slow when she kept snagging and yanking and catching on pieces of clothing in her hurry. But she finally ran down the stairs, wearing her purple riding outfit.

Diego jumped up when he saw her. He had been speaking with Francisco, who she was surprised to see up.

"Oh, good, you dressed for riding," Diego said. "Monique gave you my message then?"

"Si," she told him, and drank her father's coffee. "When are we going?"

"You should eat," Diego said. His voice was husky.

A servant girl came bearing breakfast. Diego pulled out a chair for her. "I won't leave until you do."

She ate as swiftly as she dared, afraid all the while that she would choke. She did choke, and it took minutes of hacking violently before she was fine again. Tears streamed down her face from her choking fit and she felt horribly embarrassed; her cheeks were flaming hot.

She felt like a child.

In some ways, she felt she was one again, or maybe for the first time. Nothing weighed her down now. But she felt adult enough when Diego picked her up by the waist—as much as he did it, she would never get used to the feeling—and when his hands lingered there long after she was situated.

She rode Bailarin again, and Diego was on Torcedor. They rode awhile away before she spoke. "Where are we going?"

"I was thinking we could go to the Mission at San Gabriel. It's a lovely ride, and I have business with Padre Felipe."

They rode at a leisurely pace, not hurrying or racing like before. Magdalena wasn't sure what she wanted to say, and Diego was also still deciding his words. He moved Torcedor closer.

"It's odd, but I never doubted you in one aspect—I was never afraid of what you would do with your knowledge of Zorro."

Her throat hurt, but in a good way. "Really?" She asked wistfully, the knowledge that he had trusted her that much filling her heart.

"Never once." Diego said. "I was pretty sure you knew me on the inn's balcony, and planned to speak with you the next day, but then you were gone. I was angry with you, certainly, but it never crossed my mind that you would betray me." His voice got softer. "And you didn't. You even returned to my side only moments after I called you—"

"Actually, I came back for Isabelle," she said, cutting him off, and Diego laughed aloud.

"So your motives were not purely for me."

"I never pretended them to be. Do not think me to be a perfect woman for returning."

Diego suddenly reined in Torcedor and jumped off. Magdalena also halted, bewildered. Diego came to her side and reached his arms out for her. She slid down, not knowing what to expect. His arms enfolded her as he pulled her close. "Oh, but you are perfect, right now, at any rate," he murmured into her hair and then tilted her chin up.

Magdalena dodged him, slipping from his arms. "The last time you kissed me you followed it with—"

"Many things I regret saying."

"I know you do. But I just mean, this is too soon! I don't know—"

"Don't know what?"

Magdalena fell silent. Diego waited for her to speak, and then sighed. "I'll help you back on Bailarin," he said, and she took his offer.

They continued riding until they reached the Mission at San Gabriel, where they halted and Diego dismounted, running with long-legged strides to the chapel, leaving her with the horses. Padre Felipe must not have been there; Diego came back swiftly, a slight frown on his face, which cleared when he saw her.

"Let's walk," he said, and she dismounted. They left the horses there as they strolled, down a slight hill to a pretty little stream, and next to the stream was a fallen log.

Diego gestured for her to sit, and she did, gazing up at him. "What don't you know?" He asked.

"What to do,' she whispered. "All my life I have known two choices—marry or become a spinster. And now…"

"Marriage won't be enough?" He asked, tipping his head, and she shook hers.

"No, no, it isn't that, not really. If I—if we married, what would Zorro be doing?"

Diego sat beside her. "If he was needed, he would have to ride. But other than that, he wouldn't have a place in our household."

"What exactly prompts Zorro to ride? No, don't just say injustice or tyranny."

"To right a wrong," he said softly. She shook her head. "No, personally."

"I don't know what you mean!"

"What wrongs have you righted?"

He looked confused with this line of questioning, and a bit exasperated. "I freed Nacho Torres from jail, I saved him and his family from Monastario's wrath when he was starting for Monterey. I helped peons being punished by Monastario, I—"

"What motivates you?"

"Anger, mostly. Pity, I suppose. The knowledge that I could help these people escape from tyranny and do it in a way I could not get caught, and therefore keep on doing it. I've ridden to rescue Bernardo when he was sent by Zorro to help me. I saved a waitress from the tavern when she was being kidnapped. I…pursued you the night of the fiesta to save you from Galindo's henchman."

"But Galindo didn't cut the feather."

"No, he didn't." His voice was almost inaudible.

"Why did you come to my room that night? How did you know to do so?"

"I was riding to Doctor Avila's, thinking you would still be there, and I saw your carriage by the inn. It was luck that you were in the first room I tried."

"But why did you?"

"The first time I pursued you, Bernardo was sitting in a chair, pretending to be me while Galindo, my father, Inez and Garcia were sampling the Madeira. I couldn't stay long to speak with you, and, honestly, I shouldn't have said anything, at least for his sake. But you were too close to me." He gave a rueful chuckle, looking at his hands. "The fear I felt was turning to desire and that made me angry that you still so affected me. I let that anger take over, in a way, a protection, and said things that I regretted.. So when I was back home, and all the guests were gone, I had plenty of time for a conversation with you not clouded by anger. So I rode."

Magdalena leaned into him, and he slowly put an arm around her. "I can't go back to my life in Mexico City. I need to be doing things with…with purpose. Things I feel dedicated to. All my life was there was sewing and parties and rides with eligible men. Being a wife and mother would be wonderful, but there is a lot of in between time in that life. I joined the Eagle also because I needed that excitement in my life or I would go crazy! I cannot, must not go back to that life where a new dress was the most exciting thing in my day."

"There is also riding," Diego said softly.

"Not when I am pregnant."

Diego was flushing slightly. "Si, you'd have to give it up when you were expecting. But what exactly are you asking for?"

"I want…to be Zorro's helpmate, as well as Diego's wife. I want to be able to ride with you if I wish. I have no skill with the sword but I could be your…second, shall we say, when needed. I would watch out for you. As you said, Bernardo is often needed here. We could alternate between riding with Zorro and covering for Diego. Let me ride with you."

"The life of Zorro is not all glamour. If I do end up needing your help, it is more likely for you to be covering for Diego, as you said."

"I would do that willingly. I could do anything as long as it was something…more! I cannot return to a life of..."

"I know." His hand reached to clasp hers, thereby moving his arm from her shoulders.

She looked down, staring at their entwined hands. "So…"

Diego caressed her hand, "Magdalena…" Then he closed his eyes in apparent frustration. "Oh!" He jumped up. Their clasp was broken.

Diego was running and Magdalena followed him until they came in sight of the mission again and he stopped still. She almost ran into him, but changed course to stand at his side. She looked over the mission. There was no one in sight. There had been no noises. What was Diego doing?

But he was running again, turning to speak to her. "Forgive me. I must go see Garcia. It is very important, otherwise I wouldn't leave you here. And if I don't leave now, I don't think I will be able to get away." His eyes burned into hers and she blushed. "And it has to be today."

"Of course," she gasped. He was mounting Torcedor, turning the horse swiftly, then he hesitated and suddenly leaned down and kissed her. It was over in an instant, and he was turning to gallop away, but it touched Magdalena deeply, and she stood there for a long time, feeling bemused, but she held a secret tight to her heart as she waited for Diego to return. She had just been kissed by Zorro.


	15. The Best Things in Life are Free

Part Fifteen: The Best Things in Life are Free

* * *

She mounted Bailarin and rode home at a brisk pace, but only arrived near noon.

Once there, she changed quickly to a short sleeved, light blue gown and went down to eat. Her father was at the table, waiting for her. "I was just about to start when you came in, so I decided to wait for you."  
He spoke the blessing swiftly, and Magdalena bowed her head. "Did you and Diego have a nice ride?" He asked a bit later. "You were gone all morning."

"We rode to the mission at San Gabriel, but then Diego remembered some business he had and left me there. It was quite sudden, but he assured me, his business was very important."

Francisco was as confused as Magdalena had been at this, but continued. "All right. Uh, what did you speak about with him?"

"Many things, father. I couldn't relate them. They run together." She was lying. She could vividly remember Diego's words.

"Anything of importance?" Francisco inquired lazily. "Were there any other promises made?"

She laughed, seeing his objective. "No, father, not yet."

He looked a bit disappointed. "What is he waiting for? Men have called to see you almost every day since you have returned."

"Si, and I dismissed them all as soon as they said their interest was romantic. They know my position."

"Maybe, but one doesn't want to accept it."

"Who?"

"Juan Fernando de la Cruz. He called for you today and waited awhile also. He said he had something of great importance to tell you, or I would not have let him stay so long."

"I hope it is not a proposal. I mean no offense to him, but to my knowledge, nothing he has ever said was important," Magdalena said dryly.

Her father laughed, a loud, boisterous sound that Magdalena rejoiced in. "Si, he has that manner to him." Her father was still chuckling as he left.

Magdalena finished and went outside to the patio, and what she did next surprised her, for she, rather automatically, went upstairs to get some mending. She laughed aloud when she realized how her time as a maid had shaped her, for she no longer even felt reluctance. Still chuckling, she made her way down to the patio and sat in a sunny spot, a smile remaining on her face as she sewed. A maid brought out Madeira, which Magdalena accepted.

A few minutes later, the gate creaked open, and in strode Juan Fernando. She stood when she saw him. "Don Juan Fernando. What brings you here? I believe I told you—"

"I need to tell you something," he said, his tone urgent, and his gaze, for once, not landing on her chest.

"Of course." She sat down, indicating that he should do the same.

He did so, fidgeting nervously. "I am Constancia's contact in Los Angeles," he blurted.

Magdalena choked on the sip of wine she had just taken. "Do you mean that?" She asked him.

"What does the name Miranda Calienta mean to you?" He asked quickly, and she nodded, paling. "I only play at being a cad. It is an excellent cover. People think me only interested in drink and…ladies. I must confess, I was only partially acting at your fiestas, both of them. I apologize for my behavior."

Magdalena was finding it hard to follow him. This… _baboso_ was Constancia's contact?

"Listen, how is Constancia? I have contacted her many times and she has not responded."

"I believe she is worried, because her father has not joined her yet." Magdalena told him.

Juan Fernando shook his head. "Oh, she is worried, but that is not why."

Her hand clenched the wine glass. "Then what is?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Alenez." Was the solitary word that he spoke, one of the only words that could have struck fear into her heart again.

"But—Galindo said he was dead!"

"Galindo thought he was. Everyone did. Alenez and Varga planned it that way. He was high in the government, and I suppose it must have been easy to produce the necessary evidence to say he was dead. Now Alenez seems to be getting his revenge on all the people he considers most responsible for the Eagle's downfall."

"Including?" Magdalena asked, fearing what the answer would be.

"You. The Viceroy, but he is safe. Constancia. She isn't. And there is one more." He paused.

"Who?" Magdalena demanded.

"The one he considers the most responsible—Senor Zorro." With those words, Juan Fernando stood. "I must go now. I only wished to tell you these things. You can make of them what you will, but I am going to Monterey."

"But why?" Magdalena asked, surprised.

"Constancia." Juan Fernando's smile was bittersweet as he kissed Magdalena on the hand in farewell. "Until we meet again, hopefully in better times."  
Magdalena sat there for awhile, considering his words and the meaning in them.

What was Diego doing in the pueblo? What was so urgent? Did he already know about Alenez? And what would Alenez do to her? And what _could_ he do to Zorro?

* * *

Diego never came back that day. Magdalena was on edge the rest of the afternoon, staring at the gate, waiting for his entrance there. Dusk came.

Magdalena hurried to dress for dinner, joining her father hastily. "You are late," he said, but his voice was genial. "What about Diego? Did he ever come to tell you what was so urgent?"

"No," she said, her tone easy. "I suppose that means it really was urgent, if he is still occupied with it."

"Ah," her father nodded in agreement, and the rest of the meal was passed in silence.

Magdalena could barely sleep that night, half expecting Zorro to appear on her windowsill, and disappointment was keen when the dawn came and he hadn't.

She dressed slowly in a chocolate brown dress, with a gold colored shawl, and went downstairs for breakfast.

She was on edge all the morning, debating whether to tell her father about Alenez, and in the afternoon she decided to ride over to the de la Vega hacienda and see Diego. She stopped to fetch Inez along the way—she was going in the carriage—and they had a leisurely drive over, only a bit reminiscent of their other ride in this carriage going to the same destination.

Inez was glowing and happy. She didn't wear her hair as tightly as she used to, and no longer wore hideous hats. Now they waited on the patio, and Alejandro came to greet them. "Magdalena, Dona Inez. How are you both?"

"Very well indeed. It is such a beautiful day, isn't it, Don Alejandro?"

"Indeed." His answer was short.

"Buenos dias, Don Alejandro. Is Diego here?" Magdalena asked him, trying to not let her anxiety show in her question.

"No, he isn't. He spent the night at the inn,' Alejandro told her, his brow crinkling in displeasure.

"Ah," Inez said, exchanging glances with Magdalena. "Do you expect him back?"

"No. He spoke of business. You may feel free to seek him there," he told them. Magdalena stood a little too quickly, and he seemed to be hiding a smile at her actions. A blush was on her cheeks as they said their farewells to him and started off for Los Angeles.

The servant boy, Guillermo, halted in front of the cuartel and Inez sent the lancer on duty to fetch Sergeant Garcia, who was, it seemed, still the Acting Commandante. He came much quicker than the first time they had stopped here to ask him to join them, and Diego had had to cajole him into it.

"Buenos dias, Inez, Senorita," he said, coming straight to the carriage and kissing Inez's hand eagerly. She blushed becomingly, letting her hand linger in his.

"Buenos dias, Commandante," Inez said eagerly, smiling widely.

"Have you seen Don Diego?" Magdalena interrupted their interlude too soon, and both looked disappointed.

"Si, he was here earlier," Garcia said, his tone suggesting no questions about his business there would be answered.

"Where did he go? And where is he now? That is, if you know," Magdalena inquired.

Garcia shook his head. "He mentioned going back to the tavern—he invited me to join him there later—but when I went, he wasn't there, so I left."

"Did you ask Senor Gonzales if he knew where Don Diego had gone?" Inez now asked, remembering their purpose for speaking to Garcia.

"I did. But Tio said Diego mentioned nothing when he left, early this morning, except to keep the room for him, as he would be back tonight."  
Garcia saw Magdalena's disappointment at this news. "Here, let me join you. There are a few places we can look for him that he is likely to be." Inez scrambled over and Garcia climbed in, tipping the carriage again, but not quite as much as the last time they were joined by him; besides, this time they expected it, and clung to the sides of the carriage so as to not tip with it.

Guillermo climbed back in. "Where to, patron?"

Magdalena looked to Garcia for the answer. "San Guadalupe Trail," he told her. "He rides there often."

The ride there Inez and Garcia kept up a steady conversation, but it didn't carry the irritation it had last time. Magdalena was happy to see her aunt looking so pretty, and speaking so warmly with Garcia, who could hardly keep his eyes from going to her, and his voice and manners were less coarse.

Magdalena turned back to watch the road. It all happened so quickly—one moment they were all laughing with Garcia, the next there was a flash of silver and a burning pain in her left shoulder.

There was shouting, and pain. Magdalena looked down to see a knife thrust through her skin, and blood seeping from the wound. She could hear Inez's anxious voice, and then the pain escalated when they took her from the carriage and leaned her against the wheel. Garcia removed the knife with tender care, and more blood came rushing out. Inez gave him cloth to bind it.

Time passed. Guillermo was sent with one horse to fetch soldiers and the doctor. They waited there, Magdalena on the ground, Inez crouching beside her, and Garcia stood on guard, his hand on his sword. There were no more attacks, no one was seen in the trees. Magdalena wasn't sure whether she was awake or not.

Soldiers came, with Doctor Avila. Magdalena's wound was to be properly examined and treated, and he gave her 'something for the pain'. She was out in seconds, both the pain and the drug overwhelming her.

She woke slowly, in stages, first realizing she was conscious, then opening her eyes, and gradually the feeling came back into her body. There was pain, oh, there was pain, but she could bear it. She eventually realized she wasn't alone, and turned her head. Inez and her father were there, anxiety plain on their faces. Francisco sighed in relief and stepped forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "I am glad you are awake, Magdalena," his voice was husky, and tears brimmed in his eyes.

Inez clasped her hand tightly, not saying anything.

"What exactly happened?" Magdalena asked, and her words were slurred, just a bit.

"Banditos. Or, bandito, I don't know," Inez said. "He got away. We did see him, for a second, and then he was gone."

They fell silent again, and Inez poured a glass of water, and helped Magdalena drink it. She settled back onto the pillow, struggling to keep her eyes open. Her father smiled. "You go ahead and sleep." So she did.

She awoke to the sound of shouting, and then Diego was bursting through the door and running to her side.

"Magdalena!" He said when he saw her, dropping to his knees beside the bed and, taking her hand, kissed the center of her palm. That kiss made being stabbed almost worth it. Magdalena warmed considerably and wakened more. But Inez and her father had come in after Diego, looking both amused and frustrated that he had gotten past them.

Diego's eyes were worried, but he could not speak with them in the room. He finally leaned close and whispered, "I'll come again, _mi Corazon,_ and speak longer." Then he kissed her forehead and left again, bowing in apology to Francisco.

"Oh, the nerve of him!" Inez said, but her eyes twinkled, and Magdalena thought she looked rather envious.

The next day, Magdalena was allowed to get up and go down stairs. She sat on the patio, dressed for both the weather, and her wound, in an off-the-shoulder blouse with a shawl draped over her left shoulder to cover the bandage. Now she basked in the warm sunlight, and Diego soon entered, bearing a guitar. He was looking very handsome, in a peach colored suit. Magdalena felt a sudden pang at the thought of clothes—her brown dress was being washed, Inez had said, but where was her gold shawl? She remembered feeling it being taken off, but where had she been then?

Diego sat down across the table from her. "You remember the song I promised for you?"

She thought a moment. "Oh! You thought of words for my song?"

"Si. Now I shall play it for you," he said, positioning the guitar and starting to play.  
 _The moon of Morelia shines brightly_  
 _But not half so bright as her eyes_  
 _The bloom on the rose withers nightly_  
 _But her beauty never dies_

_Her hair is the wing of the raven_   
_Her cheeks hold the blush of the dawn_   
_I pray every evening to heaven_   
_That morning won't find her gone_

_Mi Corazon, she is my heart_  
 _I treasure each touch of her glove_  
 _She is fire, she is wine, she is music_  
 _Mi Corazon my love_  
Magdalena closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair, concentrating on the music of Diego's voice. His lyrics fit very well, and a smile came to her lips. Her shoulder was throbbing, a dull, constant pain, but it was easily ignored when listening to such a voice. What did such little things matter when she had Diego?

But this was the second time she had been attacked while riding in a carriage. The first time, her father had been the victim, unintended, and now she was. _Alenez must be getting very lax, and he and Galindo must have learned their craft from the same source,_ she thought grimly, _for neither of us has died._

Diego's song ended, and her eyes flew open. "That was lovely, gracias, Diego."

He smiled, placing the guitar on the floor next to his chair. Then his smile faded, when his gaze was drawn to her shawl covered bandage. "This is the second time," he said, his voice low. "But I suppose you don't know who attacked you this time or on whose orders."

"I can guess," Magdalena said, and Diego straightened abruptly.

"Who?" His dark eyes were flashing, and his voice sharp.

"Don Javier Alenez."

"Isn't he dead? There was a minor scandal about it."

"He was one of the Eagle's right hand men."

"Really…" He drew the word out, much the same way Constancia had upon hearing that Alejandro was in Monterey.

"He faked his death, with the Eagle's help."

Diego looked very surprised. "Alenez is alive?"

"And avenging the Eagle." She told him what Juan Fernando had related.

Diego looked at her intently throughout, then slowly relaxed back in his chair when she was finished, deep in thought.

"Is this related to your business with Padre Felipe and Sergeant Garcia?" She asked him, and he seemed surprised she was still there.

"No, no, uh…I was just taking Padre Felipe some books."

"You didn't have any books with you," she reminded, feeling stung that he would lie to her.

Diego looked chastened. "I just told you everything," Magdalena said, trying to push herself to standing, but her shoulder screamed in pain and she fell back with a gasp. Diego jumped over to her, his hands going to her arms.

"Are you all right?" His voice was anxious.

"No! Just help me stand," she found herself fighting back tears, both from the pain and Diego's reticence.

He helped her up, and she jerked away from him instinctively. "Not this again," Diego murmured, pulling her back to him. "Where are you planning to go?"

"Upstairs, to my room," she told him, and he scooped her up. "My father won't like it, you being alone with me in my room."

Diego paused on the first step. "Is Inez here?"

"Si. She has been staying with us since I got injured."

Diego called for her, and her aunt came quickly, looking only mildly surprised to see them thusly. "What do you want?"

"Will you accompany us upstairs? Magdalena needs to rest." Diego asked her.

"Oh, of course," Inez hurried to walk in front of them, leading the way to Magdalena's room. Magdalena leaned her head against Diego's chest, feeling completely exhausted.

He laid her gently on the bed, his hands lingering just a moment before he straightened. "I should be going," he said, and his voice sounded strained. Inez shooed him out, and turned back to face Magdalena, walking over to fluff the pillows beneath her, and position her shoulder better. "You sleep, dear. Feel better."

Inez then hurried out, carefully closing the door behind her. Magdalena rested awhile, listening to the sounds coming through the wall. But when the sounds softened, she carefully, slowly, got off the bed and walked over to the mirror. Her clothes were fine, for Inez had dressed her simply, in a dark skirt and white, ruffled blouse. She looked a bit like a waitress, she realized, it was just the dove gray shawl over the ensemble that noted her position. She now took the shawl off, and tossed it onto the bed. She closed her eyes a moment, trying to block out the pain, and couldn't. She exhaled slowly, and walking to the bed again, sat down rather heavily. Maybe she wouldn't do anything…but only because she couldn't.

* * *

Morning didn't come soon enough. Dinner was brought to her in bed, and then Magdalena was faced with the prospect of sleeping. She spent a restless night, for her shoulder was throbbing too much to let her sleep, and whenever she did start to drift off, she would shift slightly and her shoulder would throb anew and she'd waken again with a jolt. She wished for whatever Doctor Avila had given her the first time, but when she had inquired for it, his response had been a flat refusal, his excuse being that there were not great quantities, and he didn't wish to even chance her becoming addicted.

Inez came to help her dress, and to change the bandage, for Monique was not the most gentle, or patient, of women. Magdalena was helped into another waitress-esque outfit, and hurried downstairs to breakfast.

It was then they were told the news. Corporal Reyes came walking in, bringing both it and a request. "There was an attack on the cuartel last night," he began, twisting his hat in his hands. "The attackers were killed. No one knows them, and Sergeant Garcia is sending me to fetch everyone to ask them to come and see if they can identify the bodies."

Francisco looked startled, but acquiesced. Soon they were on their way to the pueblo, with Inez, who was fretting about the bodies and about seeing Garcia in an official capacity, and because she didn't approve of Magdalena going along. "You are not well!" She insisted, and Francisco had been inclined to agree, but Magdalena had insisted, and had been, rather grudgingly, allowed.

They got in sight of the cuartel. There was a short line leading into it. The de la Vegas were arriving just as they were. Magdalena noticed that Diego looked very tired, with dark circles underneath his eyes. She wondered if Zorro had had anything to do with last night. At any rate, Alejandro seemed irritated, and Diego was too tired to speak, so they waited in silence, words even failing Inez.

The line moved quickly, and the two groups were let in together. Garcia waited, looked tired and worried. "Buenos dias, Don Alejandro, Don Francisco, Don Diego, Senorita, and Dona Inez." His gaze lingered on Inez, and she blushed and turned away. "Reveal the bodies," he ordered.  
Two grim faced soldiers drew back the sheets covering the bodies. Magdalena felt her heart jump, and beside her, Diego suddenly placed a hand on her left shoulder, over her bandage.

It was Alenez.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it is only near the end that I add real intrigue to the story, which disappears as soon as it appears. Hmm. Well, I just guess this proves I can't write stories for the Adventure or Suspense categories. (And I really can't) Since this was under Romance/Drama, though, I won't feel too bad because of that.
> 
> And on Mi Corazon, I suppose I was both delighted and appalled to realize that the song he sings to Leonar has the tune that Magdalena plays on the piano. I guess Diego did write words for it, but why he sang it to Leonar...oh well. I heard some vague rumor that it was actually meant to go into Sweet Face of Danger but they couldn't fit it in. I don't know how true that is, but it certainly makes you wonder where it would've gone in the episode.


	16. More

Part Sixteen: More

"Tell me what happened!" Magdalena was frustrated. It was two whole days since she had seen Alenez lying dead. She had started, but the gentle pressure of Diego's hand had signaled her, and she hadn't said anything. She had tried to ask him, but the de la Vegas left immediately, and then her father had decided she was exhausted, and wouldn't let her get out of bed for a whole day.

Finally, Diego had come, but he wasn't saying anything. She just stared at him, pacing the floor, her movements remaindering her of Constancia. Diego sat in an armchair, drinking wine. Inez had been there, knitting, but had just then been called away by a servant.

"Tell me!"

"All right!" The wineglass was put down, and Diego stood.

"In the weeks after my return to Los Angeles, I kept hearing...not quite rumors, but mention of a newcomer who was...strange. No one could exactly say what caused the distrust though. I was naturally suspicious, especially since it seemed he'd given a different name to every man he met. Suspicions, yes, but I still connected nothing in my mind, until the night of your _fiesta_. I was planning to go, but I heard word of this mysterious newcomer and rode out where hearsay said he'd been spotted. Tornado was uneasy, as we were going over rocky and unstable ground. There was a small explosion in the distance and Tornado spooked. That is how I hurt my arm. I went on ahead though, and found the ashes of a fire, still burning, and something else besides. An Eagle feather.

It was then that I connected the events in Los Angeles with something Padre Ramon had said. The morning of the night we stayed at the mission, we spoke briefly and we passed an Indian wearing an eagle feather. I showed concern, and Padre Ramon picked up on it. He noticed that I was looking toward the feather, and knew the cause of my concern. He explained that he was most definitely not involved with the Eagle, not like that, but he did have trouble with him. He briefly took over the Mission there, it seems, and left a few feathers behind."

Diego paused, as if inviting questions. Magdalena just looked at him, and he continued.

"What Ramon had also said was that a man had stayed there just a few weeks ago, identifying himself as an Eagle follower. He mentioned Los Angeles, unintentionally it seems, and Padre Ramon told me this, because he knew I live in Los Angeles and could watch out for him. I didn't connect the man who Ramon had mentioned and the newcomer—I thought the difference in time too far—until I asked Padre Felipe if there had been any travelers recently who had matched the description Padre Ramon had given me. I hadn't expected his yes, and realized I needed to speak with Garcia, and check at the tavern, maybe even stay there a few days to better keep an eye out for him. Well, I came out, and remembered you were waiting, and I just had to speak with you before I went. For expediency's sake, I knew I should speak to Garcia that very day. I truly did not expect his yes, and I really did intend to return to you, but Tio solidly confirmed that Alenez had stayed at the tavern, just one night, and Garcia also remembered him, and promised to find him for me." Diego chuckled.

"I decided that Zorro should help him. The next days I spent making inquiries, and I stayed at the inn at night. I was in the process of ascertaining whether Alenez was still in the area, and couldn't spend time with you until I discovered where he was and what he wanted. You must realize, at this point, I did not know him as Alenez, and I had no idea what he hoped to gain by identifying himself as part of the Eagle's brotherhood. But I picked up a lead, and Zorro caught up to his henchman, only moments after he had attacked you, but I didn't realize that yet either. I didn't realize it was this agent's man, even, he was just a bandito fleeing. I knew he couldn't be up to any good, so I tied him up and went to get Tornado, but when I came back he was gone, escaped. I went back to the inn, and heard that you had been attacked near San Guadalupe Trail and it was then that I connected the two events. I still hadn't spoken to you, though. After I did, I had an identity for my Eagle agent, and motives besides."

Diego came nearer to her, and gazed down at her with a sigh, and walked back to sit down. "It was chance I saw them. I was riding back from fetching Doctor Avila to help with a birth."

"Whose?" Magdalena interrupted, and he looked surprised.

"Elena Torres—well, she is a Torres no longer. She married my head vaquero, Benito."

"Is she all right?"

"Si, all well. She had a girl," Diego then added, and Magdalena nodded for him to continue. "But this is not important. I was coming back after telling Alenez and saw two men entering the cuartel over the wall I usually use. I alerted Garcia. His men shot to wound, the men fell to deaths, actually. I still was not sure, but waited for your reaction, and that confirmed it. It was Alenez. And he was dead. And now I have you."

His kiss was sudden, and Magdalena returned it wholeheartedly, until a pointed _ahem_ sounded from the doorway, and they pulled apart. Inez stood there, an eyebrow raised. "I don't suppose you have a question to ask my brother?"

"I do," Diego said, just a bit breathless. "Do you know where he is?"

She smiled and, gesturing for him to follow, left the room. "Through here."

Diego leaned to kiss Magdalena again, and then dashed after Inez.

Magdalena sat down smiled. Alenez was gone and Diego's was hers. And judging by Diego's exit with Inez to find her father…could it be that marriage was something she should start preparing for?

* * *

Diego wasn't nervous when he spoke with Francisco, or when he told his father that he had gotten Francisco's consent. And he wasn't nervous when he went, a few golden weeks later, to see Magdalena and actually ask her. He knew that she would be expecting him, and he had worn his best suit, dark blue with gold braid and a red sash.

Magdalena was on the patio, in a spot of sunshine, wearing a full skirted lace dress, and her hair was down. She smiled brightly at seeing him and stood up, holding her hands out to him. "I've been watching that eagle," she whispered, tilting her head. "Oh, no, he just flew away." Turning back to him, her smile returned. "What brings you here so early?"

"Questions that need answers."

With a laugh, Magdalena tugged him over to the table, and made him sit down, just as Inez entered through the gate.

"Buenos dias, Dona Inez," Diego said, darting back up to bow to the woman.

An impish smile was on Inez's lips. "Buenos dias, Don Diego. Don't let me disturb you, I am simply going to the _sala_."

"Wait a moment, Inez," Magdalena called. "I need to fetch something. You stay here with Diego, _por favor_."

Inez walked over to sit at the table as Magdalena darted up the stairs. "I suppose I can guess what brings you here."

"Certainly you can. If you couldn't," Diego shrugged.

Inez smiled again, looking down at her lap for a moment, and her face held a wistful expression.

"How are things going between you and Sergeant Garcia?" Diego asked amiably, when the lady didn't respond to his statement.

Her face fell. "I realized something," was her short answer, and she stood up again, brushing her skirt off. "If Magdalena shows hesitancy—never mind, she won't." Inez then surprised him, by briefly clasping his hand. " _Vaya con Dios._ Now I need to see Francisco," and the lady disappeared into the _sala_. Diego looked after her for a moment, considering.

Magdalena finally returned, but he didn't see anything different, and couldn't guess why she'd left. "Did you have a question for me?"

"I did. No, I do," he said, and took her hands in his. "I love you deeply, Magdalena, and I can think of no one else I'd rather have by my side throughout the rest of my life. Will you marry me?"

"Si," was her short answer. "But you are not the only one who must ask."

"Yes, well, he can come later," Diego returned. "Much later."

A ring was slipped onto her finger, a ruby surrounded by orange topazes. "Did it belong to your mother?"

"No, she was buried in hers. This is my grandmother's." Diego's voice was soft, and he held her hand up between them, gazing at it. "You have no idea how it affects me to see that ring worn." His voice was husky, and his grip tightened. "Since I became Zorro, I almost never expected this time to come. Zorro has consumed me. I never thought…never hoped…I feel so happy that you prefer me to that outlaw and that you always have."

She smiled and laid her other hand over his. "He never attracted me. Si, from what I heard, he was handsome, noble and his cause was one of justice, not thievery. But he was too high above me, too much a fox or an angel to my woman. But Diego is a man. I prefer men to angels, solid hearts to halos. Even if I didn't know, my answer would be the same."

She paused a moment, then said softly, as her hand tightened on his, "I could not love a shadow."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diego definitely left out a few details when telling Magdalena all that happened concerning Alenez. Maybe the altercation in the cuartel was just that—an altercation. But, alas, I have no talent at writing fight scenes, or having someone talk about them, so those are all the details I can give you.
> 
> It honestly never entered my mind to have Magdalena be actually involved in those events though. It just seems very unlikely that the show would permit it.
> 
> A story that started with a bit of a bang seems to be going out rather simply, something which doesn't bother me. There are two more installments. :-)


	17. Inez

Part Seventeen: Inez

* * *

Inez's hands fell to her sides when she finished straightening Magdalena's veil. Her niece looked truly beautiful. Her hair softly framed her face and her white lace dress flattered her figure to no end. Inez looked down at her own body and sighed. She would never, had never been beautiful like Magdalena. Her marriage had been a practical one.

Roberto hadn't been unkind but he had not made any secret of the fact that he had married her for business, not love. He had never joined her in the marriage bed. Inez had hoped at first that if they had had more time, he would have come around, would have softened, love might have blossomed between them, but in different moments she knew she was only fooling herself.

And it didn't help that in the years since his death she had learned of his keeping a mistress up until the very day of his death. No, he never would have joined her.

Twenty years had passed since his death, and no man had looked at her since. Until Demetrio _…It was time to go in!_ She realized with a jerk and looked back up at her niece.

Magdalena returned the gaze, and there was no pity evident in her face, and Inez felt thankful for that. She hastily stepped over to embrace her. "I love you very much, Magdalena. I truly wish you happiness," she told her, and Magdalena's eyes filled with happy tears.

"Gracias." She looked towards the closed doors leading into the church. "What would my mother say to me right now?"

 _Adela de la Curiel. What a woman._ It was hard for Inez to remember her, for as much as the lady had been good and kind and beautiful, she had also monopolized everything, everyone. No one could measure up to Adela. _Maybe Isabella de la Vega,_ she reconsidered. _But Isabella was never obviously the center of attention. Not that Adela was purposely the center of attention...and she was so kind, that day when Roberto...no, I don't want to think about that._

Magdalena waited patiently, and a touch on Inez's shoulder startled her. "Is it hard to remember her?" Magdalena asked, her eyes suddenly becoming serious. _Magdalena is wise beyond her age, just like her mother._ "Was it hard to be around her, Inez?"

"No, it was quite easy," Inez returned, and once again sank into memory.

* * *

 _A hot summer day, a white hand delicately fanning the woman who held it. Adela was beautiful, even when she was_ embarazada _._ "I wish you'd reconsider, Inez," the woman spoke, and dark eyes met Inez's faltering gaze.

"My father insists. There is nothing I can do."

"Is marriage to Don Roberto Herrera really as bad as all that, though? He isn't bad looking."

"No. But when he speaks to me...there is just something in his voice. He detests me."

A low laugh came from her sister-in-law. "But you are being serious!" She exclaimed, and then a frown crossed the beautiful face. "Inez, do you really think so?"

"Si. Never does he meet my gaze gladly."

The frown remained firmly on Adela's face. "And your father won't accept anything else?"

A small sob escaped Inez. "He tells me I am too old to remain at home. He won't support a _solterona_ , he says."

"My father-in-law is not as kind to you as he is to me," Adela observed, eyes snapping. "Inez, you can stay with me. You don't have to marry Roberto. I'll speak to Don Oliverio, tell him that _I_ wish you to stay with me."

"My father won't accept that."

"I'll use this as an excuse," Adela said, placing a hand over her swollen belly. "He can deny me nothing, especially since I am carrying his first grandchild. Besides, your father has been speaking long now about moving to Mexico City. He proposes to leave within the year, doesn't he?"

"Si. But he means to make sure I marry before he goes."

The gate had opened; Roberto had entered, Adela had been forced to leave them, albeit reluctantly. Her father had come out while Roberto proposed. _The wind had come up then, blowing away the papers. Inez had jumped up to catch them before they blew away, as had Roberto, and they had collided. Sullen eyes had met hers and Inez's apprehensions had been confirmed._

* * *

Inez finally spoke, banishing the memories that followed that scene. "She would wish you happiness and long life and," her voice softened, "many children. I mean that she would wish you to enjoy the task that begets children."

Magdalena blushed slightly, but her smile widened. "That will not be hard." Both women giggled, then Magdalena kissed her aunt's cheek. "I love you also, Inez. Gracias."

Inez was hurried to her seat. Diego was waiting for Magdalena at the front of the church, in a very dark, almost black, suit. He straightened when he saw Magdalena being led up the aisle on her father's arm, and his hand possessively took hers when they reached him. Inez looked across the church and suddenly eyes met hers. _Demetrio's eyes_. She jerked back to face the front, and suddenly tears threatened to fall. Thankfully, it was a wedding, and tears would not be out of place. She took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.

She had been foolish to think that the Sergeant's interest in her was more than mercenary. Si, he had spent time with, letting her teach him to dance, but as she recalled, those lessons included wine in great quantities. Now it was apparent to her why he had come so eagerly every week for three months. She sighed. His friendship and companionship should have been enough, but it hadn't. Inez knew how foolish and unfair it was to expect more from him. But that first day she had met him, formally, hope had risen in her.

* * *

_"Dona Inez, this is Sergeant Garcia, Commandante of the pueblo, a gallant soldier, and, for some time, your admirer."_

Inez had startled at those words, just as she had startled to find their gazes on her moments before. _My admirer? What on earth does Don Diego mean?_

"I am delighted to meet you, Senor Commandante." Manners took over. Inez offered him her hand, not registering the look Garcia shot Diego at his words. Garcia kissed the hand proffered him, first smoothing back her glove over it. _He has surprisingly good manners, for a solider._ _He_ is _the Commandante, though._ _Are they expecting me to say something else?_

"That is Don Diego's mozo," Garcia was explaining to Magdalena. "He is deaf and dumb but very loyal."

Awkward silence fell for a moment. Inez spoke the first words that popped into her head. "It must be so hard to be a soldier. All that marching and sleepless nights. How do you stand it?"

"Well, I—"

His words annoyed her and she interrupted him. "You must be a great man to live your life in the service of the King. You must truly live the life of sacrifice," Inez didn't know where these words were coming from. She had never cared for soldiers, what was she hoping to accomplish?

But Garcia's chest was puffing out, and Inez took inane pleasure that her words had caused him to be more confident.

"It is true, Dona Inez, a soldier's life _is_ one of sacrifice." His gaze met hers, and a smile crossed Inez's face. This man was so honest, friendly. _Does he actually...admire me?_

But then his next words froze her heart. "Your aunt is a very understanding woman, Senorita Montes."

_Don Diego had returned, the carriage tipped when Garcia entered, and then came the visit to my orange grove...why do I dwell on this?_

* * *

Soft anger stopped her reminiscing. Inez once again heard the words being spoken by the couple at the altar.

"I do," was Magdalena's soft voice, and soon Diego also said the words. "I do." They were soon kissing, as husband and wife. And Inez remembered a day not too long ago when Garcia had proven once and for all that Inez was a very foolish woman.

It was the day after those men had been killed. Inez had thought, when she had seen Garcia then, that he had shown more interest in her than usual. _Hadn't his gaze lingered?_ So the next day, she drove into the pueblo to see him. It was a bit daring for her to enter the cuartel by herself, but at her age, who really cared?

Garcia had looked surprised to see her enter. That should have been her first warning. His face had seemed to fall somewhat, and he seemed nervous. Oh, but that hadn't registered when she had actually been there. She had only seen the nervousness of a smitten man. _Smitten!_

She felt the pain even now, and hated herself for being so fooled by her wishes that she had placed on him false emotions. She couldn't remember exactly what she had said, or what he had said, but she knew what had come next. The thought of Magdalena had jumped into her head and she had tried to make him kiss her, gently. But Garcia had jumped as though he had been shot and immediately started speaking about wine and heat and maladies of the mind. Inez had gotten the point and fled from his office, mortified.

* * *

The wedding fiesta was elaborate and beautiful. A delicious meal was served and toasts were made and then there was dancing. _Naturally, you dance. All officers dance._ She cringed at her old words as they echoed in her mind.

It was almost more than she could bear, watching everyone dancing gaily and having no partner herself and no way to join in. She loved dancing. She turned away quickly. Magdalena and Diego seemed to be stuck together—you couldn't catch sight of one without the other. Inez finally tired of looking upon the young, nimble dancers and turned to creep away.

But as she turned, a hand touched her shoulder. "Will you do me the honor of dancing this dance with me, Dona Inez?" It was Sergeant Garcia. He looked less messy than usual. His cheeks were clean shaven and his smile bright. To her surprise, he didn't smell of wine.

She had hesitated too long she realized, when Garcia added, "please?" to his request.

"I—I suppose, Com—Sergeant." A new song was beginning, one that sent pangs to her stomach. It was the very same that she had first danced to with him. Looking towards the happy couple, she could guess that they realized it and had a premonition they would be leaving the party soon. But when she reached the floor, all thoughts of them vanished. Garcia was dancing, with an ease and grace that astounded her. Every step was perfect and she was surprised to find her breath catching every time their gazes met. Garcia's touch was feather soft, but lingering. The other dancers faded away.

They finished the dance and Garcia took hold of her arm, and they walked off the dance floor, ducking through the crowd until they were at the stables.

"This is not the best place, but it is private," Garcia said nervously. "Dona Herrera…no, Inez. Inez, I know I am but a soldier but these past months I thought—I thought—and then in my office you ran away so quickly I was afraid."

Inez's heartbeat was frantic. Was this really what was happening? What was he going to ask her?

"I was speaking to Don Diego and he said...he said..." Garcia pulled a guitar out of nowhere. _Had he planned this?_

Demetrio strummed a few chords on the guitar, and Inez's mouth fell open in surprise. He meant to serenade her?

_The night wind sighs, awake, my love._

Inez's heart thumped madly. _Can this be happening?_

_My guitar cries, awake, my love._

Tears were stinging her eyes and a smile so bright it was almost painful came to her lips. Demetrio knew how she felt, and he felt the same. Only God knew what the future would bring, and tomorrow things might be just the same again, but Inez knew that she'd enjoy and remember this moment as long as she lived.

_The fragrant breeze from the wild orange trees, whispers, awake, awake, my love._

* * *

And in an upstairs room the song drifted in, as two lovers met, shyness fading in the wake of their love.

_No one should sleep on a night such as this, no one should be without someone to kiss..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wish Inez had been more than just comic relief in Sweet Face of Danger, and in this story I tried my best to give her more of a character. She was always as important to me as Magdalena, and someday I may write something longer for her.
> 
> I find myself wishing I had included something of Adela from Francisco's perspective also, but can't think of where I would place it. I suppose it is enough for him to specify that she looked just like her mother in her party dress. (sighs) Mothers are so neglected in Zorro. There are, what, two? If this was from Diego's perspective I would have included more of his mother also, but since it isn't, (shrugs)
> 
> One more chapter to go.


	18. Epilogue

Epilogue

* * *

A quiet moment, a restful night…Diego had long since learned to appreciate those things. Not that there had been many of them recently.

With a sigh, he turned over in bed again, trying to get to sleep, and hating the insomnia he'd put up with in the past few days. Magdalena shifted beside him, and, giving up, Diego got out of bed, dressed and went into the secret passage, lighting the lantern and descending to the cave. Tornado waited there, and Diego walked over to his amigo and rubbed the horse's head. Tornado nickered and Diego picked up the halter to lead Tornado outside, into the moonlight.

The moon was full again, showing that it had been a full month since his marriage. A full month since he had gotten a good night's sleep, and not for the reasons you would hope for a newlywed to have. Zorro had been overactive, as banditos had swarmed into Los Angeles at every hour, it seemed, panicking the peons and flustering Garcia. Well, it had only been one group, but oh! the trouble they had made for everyone, especially the Fox. Night after night he had ridden, and now he could call to mind, specifically, what exactly had transpired each night.

The first night, it had been simple. He had ambushed the banditos camp, scared them away from it and come home feeling smug, sure they would leave soon.

However, la Resabiado's gang of banditos was hardier than that, unfortunately.

 _A whip flashed through the air, stinging his hand, and making it hard to retaliate._ Zorro jerked his own whip handle and slashed the jacket of the so-called la Resabiado. _What a pretentious name_ , Zorro thought, as he tried, and failed, to make his opponent drop the whip. It was obvious this man had dedicated his life to the study of one weapon. And Zorro had begun to think that he was fighting a losing battle, so the Fox would have to do what foxes do best, and disappear. So instead of striking the leader, he went for the pudgy one, the one dubbed Cerdo. With one slash, the man yelped as if he had been shot, jumping up and mindlessly waving his arm in a helpless attempt to make the stinging in his hand cease.

"Fool!" His leader snapped. "Get down!"

But, thankfully, Cerdo got in the way of la Resabiado's next slash, and Zorro was away in the night, finding Tornado and flying away on the horse's back. _Bernardo had tended to his hand, as Magdalena was still downstairs. When she had come up, it had been hard to read her expression, and Zorro realized that he still didn't know his wife well enough._

The third night had consisted of a chase, and this had been successful. Three of la Resabiado's men, Culebra, Bajista and Pescado, had apparently been instructed by their leader to rob the tavern. Rob the tavern they had, leaving Diego to pick up the pieces and Zorro to pick up their trail.

While Culebra had worried him, his companions hadn't, and it only took some skilled riding to catch up to them and successfully tackle Pescado, the eldest of the three, the one he'd guessed would have the money. His guess proven to be correct, he'd escorted Pescado to jail, only for an unsurprised Diego to be told, the next morning, that he'd escaped.

_"All I want right now is those banditos behind my bars," Garcia told his friend despondently, sitting in his office and wearily shuffling through paperwork. "They make such trouble. Would you believe that three of my lancers have been injured chasing them?"_

"Come now, Sergeant, surely one drink wouldn't hurt anything," Diego coaxed, wishing his friend to forget his worries, just for a moment. He knew that the banditos would not be coming into Los Angeles tonight, Zorro having made sure of that, so he felt safe in coaxing the depressed sergeant away from his desk.

But Garcia shook his head. "For once, I must say that one drink would hurt. I have come to the conclusion that Zorro has done too much—I mean, not too much, but I have done nothing, and every time he places one of those rascals behind my bars…" Garcia heaved a heavy sigh. "The next morning, without fail, they are gone."

"That's because Zorro hasn't been doing his job either!"

"How do you figure that, Don Diego?"

"Don't you see, Sergeant? The reason they escape is because their amigos come and help them out. If every member was in your jail, there would be no one to help them, and come morning, they would remain there."

"Si, Don Diego, that may be true, but maybe Zorro hasn't been doing his job because it is too hard for one man. No, I need to stay here and figure out something…"

Diego stood, going to the door and opening it, pausing with one hand on the doorknob. "Are you certain?"

To his credit, the Sergeant didn't even look up, and a look of concentration had crossed his face. "Si, Don Diego, I am."

With a final nod, the young don left the Commandante's office, his thoughts turning to home and his beautiful wife.

That night had been restless too, though, regardless of the fact that la Resabiado hadn't struck. A stray horse had made his way into the box canyon, a Stallion who Tornado had viewed as a rival. _He'd almost had a fight on his hands, as he and Bernardo tried to get the horse out, and success had only come in the early hours of the morning, and Diego had returned to bed exhausted, wishing he could do more than kiss his wife on the forehead in greeting._

Diego now talked softly to Tornado, as they walked in the moonlight, and Diego again questioned why he'd suddenly turn insomniac. Since the banditos had been driven out, it only followed that he'd finally get some rest. It was almost the opposite. These nights had been harder than any fight with those banditos could ever be.

Diego returned to remembering the havoc la Resabiado's gang had wreaked on Los Angeles and delved fully into memory, to forget his present sleeplessness.

_The fifth night had begun suddenly, with the news that the Cortezar hacienda had been robbed, and Don Marcos had been injured and Margarita kidnapped. Zorro hadn't been able to do anything that night, for Diego had been too busy, finally agreeing with his father and a posse had been rustled up._

"They probably went south," Don Alejandro announced, jabbing at the map. "Why take Margarita if they didn't intend to keep her? It's probably for ransom, so they'll need a place to lie low while they send their notes."

"Still, we can't be sure of that," Don Cornelius spoke. "I was thinking west, actually. That's nearer to Don Marcos's hacienda, so it would be easier to get their messages to him."

"We are not that large in number, though, not yet. Many have not even heard the news. We cannot afford to split up to search. We'll need all men together!" Alejandro countered Don Cornelius's proposal, and their companions agreed. "We can let the military go west, and if you like, you can go with them."

Don Cornelius nodded. "If you don't mind, then, I will go join Sergeant Garcia."

The other group also made ready to go, when Diego realized he hadn't seen Magdalena all evening, and told his father that he'd catch up to them. Don Alejandro had nodded in understanding and Diego had looked for his wife, finally discovering her with the injured man, speaking reassuringly to him and trying to convince him he wasn't well enough to join the posse.

"But she is my daughter!" Don Marcos had protested. "I need to rescue her. I can't even imagine how she is being treated!"

"The other dons will find her," Magdalena's voice hadn't wavered. "I am sure of that. And what of Los Angeles' guardian angel? Surely el Zorro will be looking tonight."

He had interrupted then, and had spent a few precious moments speaking to her, regretting that this was the first time in days he'd really spoken to her and that it had to be so quickly completed.

_Sixth day._

After a full night of searching, they'd been able to find nothing of the bandito's trail. But with the morning came the first ransom note, delivered by a tiny boy whose only thought in accepting the message had been the peso pressed into his hand.

"We will give you two days to place five thousand pesos in a bag and place it in a saddlebag hung on the signpost of San Guadalupe trail. If you do this, your daughter will be returned to you within the hour."

"You are not going to give them the money," Alejandro said immediately, almost before Diego had finished. "You have no way of knowing that they will keep their word. They could just as well take the money and still keep her. Even if we had men watching, they could come up using her as a shield and still get away."

"But what if I don't?" Don Marcos asked weakly, not really protesting. "What will happen to Margarita?"

Diego looked at the note, knowing that that was not all. But Alejandro had ordered him to not reveal what else had been written, so instead he folded it back up and was about to place it in his pocket when Magdalena plucked it out of his hands and read it, silently.

Serious eyes met his and for a moment Diego faltered. Then Magdalena merely handed the note back to him, squeezing his hand reassuringly as she did so. "I think it is time for Zorro," she whispered as she left the room, and Diego was forced to agree with her.

It was then that it really got hard. The next days Zorro spent looking for the banditos camp, and he couldn't find it, while all the while the dons looked and argued over whether the money should be given.

And he didn't speak to Magdalena at all, that Seventh day. Zorro was riding, and Diego was almost busier. But that was alright. She understood.

_Ninth day._

Zorro leaned down to scoop up Margarita; her legs had been injured somehow and she couldn't manage to stand. A few more steps and he boosted her onto Tornado and mounted behind her.

She hadn't spoken at all since she'd seen him, a fact which worried him. Her big brown eyes had been so fearful as they looked up at him, and untrusting. It had taken him a few minutes to convince her to come. The banditos had done something to her, that was certain.

"Margarita!" Was the universal cry when the senorita stumbled through the gate of the de la Vega hacienda moments after being dropped there by Senor Zorro. She wobbled, and it was Don Francisco who darted forward to catch her. Something was wrong.

_Eleventh day._

"I honestly don't see where the problem is," Doctor Avila murmured, regretfully. "It must be in the mind, for I have bandaged her legs and they are fine."

"There is nothing more you can do?" Don Marcos asked anxiously, and the doctor shook his head.

"I will come back tomorrow to change the bandages, and here is the medicine she gets." Items exchanged hands and the doctor was seen off.

The Cortezars were still staying at the de la Vega hacienda. Magdalena had appointed herself Margarita's nurse, so Diego still hadn't seen her very much. But he had a score to settle…

La Resabiado would pay.

_Fifteenth day._

"Curiosity killed the cat," drawled a lazy voice, and Zorro felt the sting of a whip, again.

"Please, don't kill him!" Cerdo begged; at least, the Fox thought it was Cerdo.

"Why not?"

"Isn't this enough? You unmasked him, you drugged him, and now you whip him senseless, as you would a slave. Isn't this enough?"

"No. Do you not recognize the man we have before us?"

"Should I?"

"This is the don from the inn."

_Sixteenth day._

"Wake up, please, wake up!" And Zorro woke by Diego's wife's arms, on Diego's bed, lying on his stomach, smelling her perfume, and seeing her eyes, staring down at him.

"What has happened?"

"Many, many things," his wife began, and her hands were hurrying to do…something. His mind was too drowsy to register what.

"Bernardo led the dons there. All the banditos are behind bars. But you were not there when they came, Diego. Not you or Zorro. La Resabiado kept crowing about how he had you but you were nowhere in sight."

"Then where was I?"

Bernardo came into his line of vision, and Magdalena moved aside so Bernardo could tend his master.

"Well, you are in your bed, now. At that time, a certain fox's amigos, shall we say, managed to take Zorro away before he was seen. And that was the hardest part. Diego…we told your father."

"You did?"

"To be more accurate, he already knew. All we really told him was that you were being held, we knew where, and that you were probably unmasked, so we couldn't just lead the dons there. Together, we worked out a plan, and here you are. Safe and sound."

"Where is my father?" Diego asked, trying to sit up. I can finally…speak to him…

"Downstairs," Magdalena told him. "There are still matters to be sorted out. For instance, whether we need to call a doctor for your back. Bernardo has tended it very well, and luckily, none of the gashes were that deep."

"Luckily…" and Diego sank back into the black.

_Twenty-ninth day._

"And tell me, is this official?" Diego asked his father, who stood in the middle of his room. Magdalena was next to Diego on the bed; she had been reading to him before Don Alejandro came in.

"Si. Our new Commandante should be here this very day, Sergeant Garcia says."

"I wish I could be there," Diego reflected. "My bandages have come off but Doctor Avila still cautions against any sort of riding."

"It is a pity, Diego. But Bernardo and I will go in and we can bring back all the news."

At that, Bernardo entered, indicating that he was ready to go. Alejandro bade his son goodbye and the two men left. Magdalena resumed reading, but Diego soon interrupted her. "No more reading. Let's talk."

_Now._

Magdalena woke up to find the bed beside her empty, and she sat up in a slight panic. Where was Diego? Throwing off the covers, she bolted from the bed, looking around wildly. It was almost pitch black, the only light coming from the window, where the full moon shone in.

With a gasp of realization, she plunged into the passage, not even taking a candle to guide her, and finally coming out in the cave, and Tornado wasn't there. The Zorro costume was still there. He must be just talking to Tornado. I know that even though there is no more pain he hasn't been able to sleep well.

And out into the moonlight she went, pushing through the foliage to see her husband there in the moonlight, leading Tornado on his picket rope. One glance at his face and she calmed. There was a look of peace on his face she hadn't seen since the morning after their wedding. With a murmured prayer of thanks, she hurried to his side, and he turned at her coming, looking more than a little surprised to see her there.

"I woke and you weren't there," she explained hurriedly. "I was anxious, I'll admit."

"I'm fine," he assured, a slight cloud coming over his face, but she quickly shook her head.

"I know you are," she returned, stepping nearer to him. "I felt anxious because I was alone. I know you can take care of yourself but I didn't want to be alone."

His face softened and he stepped nearer to her, putting an arm around her and pulling her close against him. "I couldn't sleep."

"I guessed. How long have you been out here?"

"A few hours, I suppose, just walking around."

She nodded in understanding, leaning into him. "Are you worried?"

"Not worried. And if you mean about the new Commandante, I suppose I don't know whether I should be worried yet. I haven't been in town and Bernardo and my father simply can't tell me everything."

She nodded again, and Diego pulled her closer. "You know, if you can't sleep, may I propose a different activity?"

She felt his laugh rumbling deep in his chest. "I know there was a reason," he murmured, starting back to the cave.

She only returned the laugh, and for the next few hours Diego's insomnia didn't bother him at all.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A hard first month for the newlyweds, eh? This wasn't the original ending, so it may seem a bit chopped. But the ending I had planned just didn't fit anymore so instead I had their first month in flashbacks.
> 
> I suppose what I was wanting to do was say 'you'll be thinking that things get easier when they marry, but it's the opposite. they get harder, much harder. And in the midst Diego is still getting to know Magdalena.'
> 
> This story didn't turn out the way I had planned it, and in small ways I'm not satisfied with it. As some pointed out, there were paths that I definitely indicated I would take and didn't. There is always next time and I really do plan on writing more about Magdalena, yet another one completely separate from this one. I took only one aspect of her personality, so to speak, and in future stories I'll go for different ones.
> 
> Some details and outcomes are left out or not fully explained. This was done intentionally.


End file.
